Cleaning 221B
by GlitteringSnow
Summary: After losing her job as a waitress, Lydia Roberts applies for a cleaning job at 221B Baker Street. Too bad she didn't know what she was letting herself in for, least of all Sherlock Holmes. Eventual Sherlock/OC
1. Baker Street

**Chapter One**

**Baker Street**

**/**

I opened the door to my house, shaking my umbrella trying to get rid of any excess rain before stepping inside. I took my coat off and hung it up, putting the umbrella in the sink. My teeth chattered as I rubbed my arms trying to warm myself up before moving to put the kettle on.

It hadn't been the best day for me. I had lost my job. Again.

This time I could honestly say it wasn't my fault, my stupid co-worker had tripped, pushing me into a customer and I spilled hot chilli onto their lap. Quite clearly she should have been fired and not me, even though me and the customer had a massive arguement. I think he was over reacting.

I sighed before picking up the paper and flopping onto the couch. I turned my TV on not really listening to the news before opening the paper to the jobs section. Wincing at a few, such as dustbin lady, there was no way I was that desperate... yet.

I reached out to the table to grab my cup of tea, eyes still scanning the paper. I found a few options, I doubted I would be able to work in a resturant so soon after my traumatic experience so I looked at the one option left for me.

Cleaning.

There was an advert for a cleaner needed at 221B Baker Street. I could do that. I clean this place, I looked around to see all of my stuff spread out everywhere. I bit my lip, clearly I wasn't as good as I thought I was. No one really had to see my own place before I cleaned someone elses.

I picked up my phone and dialed the number, waiting slightly impatiently for someone to pick up.

"Hello?" An elderly woman's voice came through the phone.

"Hi, this is Lydia Roberts. I'm calling to enquire about the cleaning position needed at 221B Baker Street" She gave an excited gasp.

"Oh yes dear hello. My name is Mrs Hudson" I heard someone muttering something to her on the other end "If you'd like to come round tomorrow for a cup of tea and we can discuss the details"

"Will do, how does one sound?"

"Sound perfect dear, see you tomorrow" We both hung up. I grinned, walking into the kitchen to grab some ice cream and a spoon before retaking my place on the sofa. I grabbed the remote to change the chanel onto some movie that I had no idea of what the name was and dug into my ice cream.

I paused mid bite "Wait? Did that mean I was hired?" I shrugged it off before taking the bite. I would find out tomorrow.

**/**

The next morning, practically all of my clothes were on the floor. I'd never really gone for a cleaning post so I didn't know what was appropraite to wear. I held a black dress up to my body, shook my head and threw it on the floor. Definately not, although that is something good to wear on a date. Not quite the impression I was hoping to give.

I found some black skinny jeans, threw on a red top with a black blazer and decided I looked smart enough for an interview but casual enough that it didn't look like I was trying too hard. I put on my black converse and decided I was ready.

I nodded, satisfied before turning back to the mess I'd made of my room. I winced, thinking I would clean it later, then scowled because I knew I wouldn't.

Oh to hell with it, I picked everything I could carry up and shoved it all back in my wardrobe, pushing the clothes when they tried to escape their fate. I quickly turned my back on it when I was content that they wouldn't all come tumbling out on me.

I'd sort it out later. I stopped, wondering where I'd heard that before before continuing towards the door. I took my phone out and googled Baker Street, seeing as I'd never been there before and it turned out it was only one street over, this was the perfect scenario for me, now I wouldn't have far to walk everyday.

I wouldn't describe myself as lazy. Others probably would.

I stepped out into the surprisingly sunny day, checking my phone to make sure I was on time, before making my way to Baker Street. It only took me five minutes to walk there, and there was a little cafe right next door, both things cheered me up immensely. I knocked on the door, completely missing the doorbells, and waited for it to be opened.

It only took a few seconds to open and a man just taller than me with slightly graying hair stood in front of me. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, is Mrs Hudson in?" I asked.

"Yes, come in" He held the door open for me, I walked into the hall and my eyes immediately went up the stairs where I could hear what sounded like a violin playing. The man shuffled past me and knocked on the door to my right.

"Mrs Hudson? Someone's here to see you" The door opened and the elderly woman smiled at the man.

"Thankyou John, that must be our new cleaner" She caught sight of me and came bustling over "Hello my dear, if you'd like to come in" I was led into her flat, everything inside seemed to have some sort of pattern on. I smiled at the homey feel of it, she reminded me of my nan.

"Tea?" I smiled, before sitting on the sofa.

"Yes please"

**/**

Mrs Hudson and I had a lovely chat about my new schedule. After clearing up the matter of payment and how much work is necessay we had to decide on how many day's I was coming by.

It was decided that I would come every other day but no Sunday's, we were both happy with this deal.

"Are you alright to start tomorrow?" Mrs Hudson lay her hand on my arm. I smiled and nodded, drinking the rest of the tea and standing up.

"I should get going, want to get here bright and early tomorrow" She chuckled and took my tea cup, taking it into the kitchen. I made my goodbyes and made my way over to the door, opening and closing it behind me I walked past the staircase, hearing footsteps behind me.

They stopped suddenly which prompted me to turn around. Standing there and staring at me was a man around 6ft, black curly hair and sharp cheekbones. He didn't say anything which made me uncomfortable.

"Um, hello?" He tilted his head and was seemingly about to reply but John, the man from earlier, came into view.

"Don't you dare Sherlock"

The now named Sherlock didn't look away from me as he replied "I have no idea what you're talking about John"

"Yes you do, you do and you're not going to" Sherlock sighed, placing his fingertips to the bridge of his nose before moving his eyes from me and brushing past.

"Sorry about him" John said, also brushing past me and both exited the house.

"Ah, I see you've met the boys upstairs" Mrs Hudson said as she saw me still standing there with no doubt a baffled expression on my face. I snapped out of it, giving her a confused smile.

"I think so"

I bid her another farewell before opening the front door of 221B Baker Street, I walked out into the still sunny day and heard the door shut behind me. Turning around I looked at the golden numbers hanging from the door, I could just tell that my time cleaning the place would be somewhat eventful. Even if it was because I had something nice to look at.

Sharp cheekbones indeed.


	2. First Day

**Chapter Two**

**First Day**

I woke up the next morning to a nice sized puddle of drool on my pillow, I wiped it off my cheek, checking the time on my phone before deciding to get up. I stretched my arms in front of me and rotated my wrists hearing mulitple cracks.

I walked into the bathroom to get ready quickly, I had to be at my new work in an hour. I could manage that.

...

I was running late, I ran a brush through my hair quickly before practically sprinting out of my front door and towards Baker Street. I managed to check the time without damaging my phone as I ran, I could still make it. I pushed myself to the extreme and almost collapsed against the door of 221B. I breathed deeply as I tried to regain some composure and opened the door. I pushed my windswept hair behind my ears as I walked down the hall and knocked on Mrs Hudson's door.

She took a few seconds to open it, beaming when she saw me. "Lydia dear, so nice to see you. And you're right on time" I sighed with relief and smiled at her.

"No problem, Mrs Hudson. How are you?" I asked as I was ushered into her kitchen.

"I'm good my dear, you're such a polite young thing" She was cooking breakfast it seemed, the smell of a homecooked meal made my mouth water and before I knew it, I was eating a fry up.

I could have cried at how good it tasted, Mrs Hudson looked quite pleased with getting to feed me and I was more than happy to let her.

"I'm so glad you're not one of those girls that hardly eats" She told me, happily doing the washing up after I'd finished.

"Trust me, I eat everything and anything" I laughed, patting my full stomach before deciding that it was probably time for me to start work. I left Mrs Hudson to it and went to clean the basement out first, as I didn't want to wake the people upstairs.

It was very dusty, that was the first thing I noticed about the place. Mrs Hudson had followed me down and turned on the light.

"I'm looking to spruce this place up a bit, but I'm afraid I don't have the time to do it. It needs quite a bit of cleaning I'm afraid, there's so many odds and ends in here that I've forgotten about" I nodded and walked forward, hearing mulitple creaks underneath my feet.

I walked over to one of the walls and winced at the horrible peeling wallpaper. "Did you want me to get this off as well?" I asked.

Mrs Hudson beamed "If you could dear. I'm hoping I could rent it out, but I don't think any one would want to live here with it in this condition" I nodded, I certainly wouldn't want to live here, it needed a hell of a lot of work.

She went to get me some of her cleaning supplies, leaving them at the bottom of my stairs and leaving me to get on with it. "Did you want a cup of tea, dear?" She shouted.

"Yes please" I was definately going to need one, I sneezed as some of the dust went straight up my nose and decided to start with the hoover. By the time Mrs Hudson came back I was halfway through the carpet, there was such a thick layer of dust that underneath the gray carpet was actually quite a nice white colour. It was gross how grey the carpet actually was, but I was being paid to do this so I sucked it up and carried on.

I stopped the hoover to take a sip of my tea, wondering how Mrs Hudson got it so perfect. I dipped one of the biscuits she'd given me into the tea and was practically in heaven before realising that I had actual work to do and I couldn't afford to slack off.

It took me another ten minutes to get the carpet how I wanted it. I was feeling pretty pleased with myself before I heard the door at the top of the stairs open and closed, I ignored it thinking it was Mrs Hudson.

It most definately wasn't.

It was the man from yesterday, cheekbones. My eyes lingered on them, as I recalled our brief meeting.

"Hello, can I help you?" I asked him, watching at he blinked at me. He stalked towards me, for some reason wearing a coat and scarf.

"Twenty to twenty five years of age, hair dyed, naturally blonde, you have no pets, live alone, have little contact with your family. You have an addiction to ice cream and tea, you do not enjoy cleaning but for some reason have taken this job. You must have been fired from your previous job and this is the first job you saw. You usually wear a ring on your right index finger but took it off because you didn't want to lose it" At this point my mouth was hanging open. "Your single, haven't had a boyfriend in a few years with your last cheating on you with your best friend. You have little to no social contact regularly and are wondering how I know all of this"

I nodded "It's simple, your overall face shape, skin and lack of wrinkles tells me your age, your roots are beginning to show, no fur on any of your clothes showing there are no pets-" He continued to rattle off all of these little facts about me, ignoring the the gobsmacked look on my face. He must have been used to it.

I snapped back out of when he asked me a question. "Sorry?"

He sighed impatiently "Did I get anything wrong?"

"Um, it was my sister, not my best friend" He tsked as though he was disappointed in himself and walked back up the stairs.

"There's always something" I heard as he closed the door behind him. If that wasn't the strangest thing I'd ever experienced than I don't know what is.

"Anyway..." I got back to cleaning. The floor was basically done and there wasn't much else I could do for the carpet without a cleaning agent. I brushed my hair out of the way and started on the wall.

I walked up the stairs to get a bucket of soapy water when I bumped into the man from ealier. I avoided his eyes and noticed the other man behind him. John and Sherlock, their names came rushing back to me.

"Hello there" I looked up and smiled at John.

"Yes, yes, this is the new cleaner. Lydia Roberts" Sherlock peered at me once more, before dismissing me. Quickly walking towards the door and hailing a taxi. John sighed and followed.

"Sorry about him" I smiled as I remembered his saying the exact same thing to me yesterday.

I went to Mrs Hudson's and got my bucket, before deciding that I should probably clean their flat while they were out. Mrs Hudson thought this was a good idea as she led me upstairs.

"There may be a few of Sherlock's experiments lying around, he does enjoy his experiments" She told me while unlocking the door.

"Is he a scientist?" I asked, following her inside.

"No" She laughed "He's a detective" She beamed.

"Oh, that's interesting" I peered around the room, noting the skull on the mantlepiece and the violin in the corner. "Very interesting"

"Sherlock's bedroom is through there" She pointed to a door "And John's is upstairs" I nodded and went back downstairs to get my supplies. I started with the kitchen, Mrs Hudson chatted to me as I worked, which I appreciated.

I opened the fridge and screamed when there was a decapitated head staring back at me.

"Don't worry dear, that's just one of Sherlock's experiments" I gave Mrs Hudson a completely shocked look.

"One of his experiments" I breathed, slowly closing the fridge door vowing to never open it ever again. I closed my eyes "I can deal with that. As long as he's not a murderer" Mrs Hudson burst into laughter.

"No, no dear. Sherlock helps solve crimes, he doesn't commit them" I nodded, wondering where he would have gotten the head from.

I decided I didn't want to know.

"Does he often bring body parts home?" Mrs Hudson hummed and I guess she must have seen her fair share of them as she acted as if it was so normal. "Okay then"

Well, at least this job wasn't going to be boring, I thought as I cleared away some of the old food on the counter. Mrs Hudson had gone back to chatting away as if we hadn't discovered a head in the fridge. I put a load of dishes in the sink, putting the tap on hot and adding fairy liquid.

I waited for it to fill up, going around and adding more plates and cups found in the living room. These two men were really very messy, there were a lot of papers around the place, most with scribbles on. I tidied these up a bit before going back to the kitchen and turning the tap off.

"So how do you like John and Sherlock living here?" I asked, noticing how fond she seemed to be of them, even though they were quite bizarre.

"They are such dears, don't let the head in the fridge put you off" She told me, smiling at the thought of her boys. I smiled with her, I believed that she was a good judge of character so I would trust her judgement.

"Shelock also occasionally shoots the wall, there are a few bits of plaster that need clearing up"

I take it back.

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**Review?**


	3. Unwelcome Surprises

**Chapter Three**

**Unwelcome Surpises**

I walked over to one of the walls, finding that there was in fact more than a little bit of plaster underneath it. The smiley face painted on the wall seemed to have been the target as there were multiple holes dotting around it. I got out a dustpan and brush and pulled the sofa away from the wall, accidently knocking a few books that were on the arm. I picked them up and placed them randomly in the bookcase, noting that there were many books.

I did a double take as the skull on the mantlepiece looked particularly creepy and went back to the wall. I cleared up most of the mess and decided that the sofa would cover any bits that I missed.

"I'll make you a cup of tea, dear." I almost jumped at Mrs Hudson's voice, nearly forgetting that she was there.

"Thankyou." I looked around at all of the mess on the floor and set to clearing it up, finding a few documents that looked important and those I put on the table. I rifled through the papers that I was holding and found that they were just squiggles. I didn't want to throw anything out that was vaguely important so I put them into a different stack.

"Do you know if there's anything I'm not allowed to move?" I asked, hesitant to touch some of the more important looking things. Mrs Hudson came to stand by me, both of us looking around.

"Hmmm, we'll have to wait until Sherlock comes back I'm afraid." I nodded and grabbed a duster instead. I went around the room, which was quite dirty and managed to make it somewhat presentable. I went into one of the bedrooms, the one at the top of the stairs and hoovered the entire thing. Picked up the laundry and put things in their place in the wardrobe and drawers. Other than that there was not much mess and I was happy to leave the room as it was. That was until Mrs Hudson gave me some new sheets so I went back and stripped the bed, taking a few tries to put the new sheets on because every time I did a corner and went to do another, the sheet would slip off.

I narrowed my eyes and climbed on the bed, using my foot to keep one of the corners down while stretching my body to keep the corners at the top of the bed on. Now that three corners were on I carefully stretched the remaining one onto the bed. When I successfully accomplished my mission I cheered quietly not wanting to anger the bed sheet, before backing away and throwing the duvet over. I plumped the pillow before feeling satisfied with my work. I nodded before leaving the room, shutting the door behind me.

I walked back downstairs and grabbed the tea that Mrs Hudson had made me, feeling like I deserved it for my struggles. I gulped it down, knowing that it wouldn't be too hot because I spent quite a lot of time in the bedroom. I then realised that there was another one on this floor. I groaned before putting my cup down, picking up the sheet that Mrs Hudson had left for me and went into the other room. This one was a lot messier than the one upstairs, there were a few odd things dotted about like a shelf full of different plants on the wall opposite the bed. I ignored that and went to the bed, stipping it and managed to put the sheet on a lot easier than last time.

I guess what they say is true. Practise does make perfect. I smoothed my hand over the sheet feeling victorious when it stayed put and put the duvet back on. I picked up a few suit jackets and put them into the wicker basket that I assumed was for washing, I picked up all the other clothes that were on the floor and put them in there as well.

I picked up the basket and took it with me into the living room before going back to dust the room. I uncovered something gross looking in the corner and I couldn't even tell what it was so I left that alone. It smelt pretty bad so I took some air freshner and sprayed the place up, opening the window as well.

I left the room after hoovering feeling glad that it wasn't my room and went back to the basket I'd left in the living room and it came as quite a surprise to me that there were people there. John and Sherlock to be precise.

John looked surprised to see me but I wouldn't have been shocked to know that Sherlock already knew I was here. I wondered why I didn't hear them come in but then I realised that I probably was too preoccupied with the mess that was Sherlock's room.

"Hi, just cleaning up. Hope you don't mind. I was hoping to be done before you got back but uh..." I trailed off "Your back" I gave an awkward smile, hearing footsteps on the stairs. I turned to see Mrs Hudson coming back up.

"You all done dear?" I nodded and picked up the laundry basket.

"Those are my clothes." Sherlock deadpanned looking into the basket.

I nodded "Yeah, I was gonna clean them, there are some of John's in here as well." Sherlock kept looking at me like I was up to something, so I have him a confused look "I'll bring them back when they're done." I promised. This seemed to appease him as he went over to the sofa and collapsed onto it.

I went downstairs, leaving them all to it and entered Mrs Hudson's flat where she had assured me I could use her washing machine and dryer. I bundled all the clothes in, making sure none were white because that would have been a disaster, and I'm pretty sure Sherlock would have killed me.

I walked out of her flat making sure to close the door behind me and bumped straight into John.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." I fussed over him. He smiled patiently at me, waiting for me to finish and when I did I was even more embarrassed then when I was to start with. "Sorry about that." I finished awkwardly.

"It's fine," He assured me "Don't worry about it." He walked out the front door and slammed the door behind him. I raised my eyebrows at his behaviour, wondering what had got him all stressed out. I went back upstairs to get all of my supplies, passing Mrs Hudson on the stairs.

Sherlock was looking out of the window, possibly watching John leave.

"Miss Roberts." I jumped as he addressed me without turning.

"Yes?" I walked closer to him, and when he finally turned to face me there was a loud bang and a rush of heat. Sherlock was pushed by the force of the explosion on top of me and we both went flying onto the floor. My breath went rushing out of my body as Sherlock landed on top of me, both of us were dazed and we remained in this position for a few minutes. That was until Sherlock realised where he was and he looked down on me as I finally managed to breathe once more.

He climbed off me, brushing down his shirt before offering me a hand up, scanning my body looking for any blood.

"I'm alright." I assured him, giving him the same scan and finding that miraculously we were both unharmed. "What was that?"

Sherlock went back to the window, touching the edges of the wall that had held up. He didn't tell me what his suspicions might be and I really don't know why I thought he might, I had realised that Sherlock didn't really like to explain everything that went on in his head, if his arguements with John were anything to go by.

I sat down on one of the armchairs, suddenly feeling very faint. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply.

It wasn't what I expected coming into work, a near death experience wasn't high up on my list of things to do today. I rubbed my arms feeling goosebumps erupt on my arms, my hands were soon replaced by someone elses. I opened my eyes to find Sherlock's startling blue ones looking at me.

* * *

**Review? I'm trying to make it follow the canon, this is introducing episode 3 from season 1 if I remember correctly. **


	4. Aftermath

**Chapter Four**

**Aftermath**

Sherlock clearly was uncomfortable touching me, presumably not really knowing how to comfort someone, let alone after an explosion. They don't happen too regularly, I'd imagine. He rubbed his hands over mine quickly before taking them back, clearing his throat and going into the kitchen. I stared after him, rubbing my hands where his just were and heard him put the kettle on.

"Tea?" He didn't turn to face me as he asked.

I tried to say something, but my throat seemed to have closed up. I sniffeled, feeling very sorry for myself when I realised that this was Sherlock's flat, someone could have been trying to kill him and here I was being so selfish only thinking about myself. I got off the chair and went into the kitchen, avoiding a few experiments that had fallen to the floor from the blast, it was at that moment when I realised that it was probably me that was going to have to clean all the rubble away. I shook this thought out of my head as I approached Sherlock.

I touched his shoulder gently, pulling away when I felt him tense. "Sherlock, what was that explosion?"

He shrugged. "Could have been anything." He put two sugars in a cup and none in the other, filling both of with boiling water before stirring and pressing one into my hands. The warmth immediately seeped through my body and I felt better. I think I was in shock.

"It wasn't on purpose was it?" I chewed on my bottom lip, this small gesture caught Sherlock's attention, his eyes drawn to my lips. "Sherlock?"

He looked away before taking a sip of his tea. "Of course not." He steered me back to the sofa, where I made myself comfortable before he picked up his violin. I watched, interested as he plucked a few strings. I leant my head back and closed my eyes, savouring the feeling of safety that Sherlock emitted and took a deep breath. The soothing sounds of the violin were sending me to sleep, I moved back on the sofa and curled up before giving into the unconsciousness.

/

The next time I woke up it was morning and there was someone in the flat that I had never seen before, he looked wealthy, his suit was neatly pressed and not a single piece was out of place. His umbrella was stood against the chair that he was sitting in as he sipped his cup of tea. He looked happy that I was awake.

"My dear, how are you?"

I just stared at him, wondering who he was and why he was making Sherlock agitated enough to make horrible noises on his violin. What used to be soothing was now extremely annoying. Sherlock locked eyes with me and pulled a face.

"Dear?" I looked back at the new man who was staring at me, a concerned look on his face that didn't reach his eyes.

"I, I'm fine." I sat up a bit straighter, rubbing my eyes. "Who are you?"

His eyes widened and he got up off his chair, coming over to me. "How terribly rude of me, I'm Mycroft my dear. Of course we were going to meet later today but obviously there were some unaccounted for events that came to pass." He shook my hand while muttering to himself, throwing Sherlock a few unreadable looks. He let go of my hand and went back to his chair just as John came through the door.

"Are you alright?" He asked, seemingly breathless. "I saw the explosion on the news." I raised my eyebrows and peered out of the window, sure enough there were quite a lot of people down there. I wondered why none of them came up.

"They were here when you were asleep." I almost jumped at Sherlock's voice, it annoyed me that he could almost read my mind. He smirked at me from his chair, plucking another string on his violin before grabbing his bow.

John came over to me, knowing that he wouldn't be able to get anything out of Sherlock and looked me over, his doctor mentality coming through. "What happened?"

"Gas leak." Sherlock drawled, making a terrible screeching sound with his violin.

"Gas leak?" Sherlock nodded lazily.

It was at this moment that John noticed Mycroft. He nodded stiffly, not seeming to like the older man. I breifly wondered why but I realised that I really wanted to get out of here. There was only so much that I could take in one day, I didn't want to break down in front of these guys.

"Hey. I'm just gonna, head home." I said, grabbing Mrs Hudson's supply basket that I had been used before the explosion and picked up some of the rubbish that I would throw out later.

"Oh, of course. I'll walk you down." Sherlock jumped up, stored his violin behind his chair and walked out in front of me. I watched his back, slightly bemused. He didn't seem like the kind of guy that was nice enough to walk someone out, but I suppose that even he has to have some sort of empathy. Unless he wanted something. I slowly followed behind, watching as he bounded down the stairs.

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked back at me as though me walking this slow was annoying him, which probably was. I made it to the bottom of the stairs and glanced up at him. He looked at me, his eyes unreadable. I didn't know why he was looking at me so intensely so I coughed and moved away from him. I knocked on Mrs Hudson's door, wondering why she hadn't come up after the explosion.

"Oh, hello dear! I'm so glad you're alright, Sherlock told me you were just sleeping so I left you be. Would you like a cup of tea?" She caught sight of Sherlock who had come to stand behind me. "Oh Sherlock! How are you? I've spoken to the nice man outside and he says that you won't have to pay for the damages, because it was the flat across the road that blew up." During her little speech she moved away from us and put the kettle on. I sighed, resigning myself to staying a bit longer and put the basket on the floor next to the cupboard and sat down at the table, Sherlock sliding into the one opposite me.

"What?" I asked.

"I thought you were going home."

"I was but-" I was cut off by Mrs Hudson putting a mug in front of me. I gave it a pointed look for Sherlock's benefit and took a sip, it warmed me and I felt myself relax into the hard wooden chair.

"And of course, you can have the day off tomorrow dear. I'm ever so sorry for what you've been through today. Poor darling." She stroked the top of my head and looked down at me sadly. I wanted to feel annoyed by her pity but the prospect of a day off was too much to resist.

Mrs Hudson hugged me to her suddenly and I tensed, Sherlock watched this interaction avidly but his concentration was ruined when Mrs Hudson pulled him into the hug as well. It was a little awkward as our faces were extremely close to each other and her bosom. "You as well Sherlock, you were in the nasty explosion as well. Oh deary me, now I know I'm not your housekeeper but I'll come up later with a nice dinner for you. Your skin and bones." She continued her rant about his health as she held us towards her.

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**Sorry for the longer wait than usual, but I'd had a bit of writers block and it's one of those things that only cures itself. But I'm pretty sure I can write the next chapter soon. **

**Review? **


	5. Jim

**Chapter Five **

**Jim**

When I got home I went straight for the fridge. My stomach had been begging me for food on the way home, I had decided to walk home despite the fact that my legs were still shaking, the sun was bright and warm and I decided it would be good for me.

I grabbed some chocolate and went to my sofa, feeling calmer already. Although Sherlock did make me feel safe there was nothing that compare with your own home. Something about this place just screamed comfort. I pushed my shoes off and wiggled my toes, grabbing the remote. I turned the tv on, switching the channel from the news which was showing the gas leak as they were calling it, and turned it on to something happier. Luckily there were a few new episodes of some of my favourite programs that I could catch up on.

This was my idea of a good day off, although it was likely that I would have to go to the supermarket later on, as there was literally nothing else worth eating in my fridge and I knew that I would probably be doing a lot of comfort or boredom eating throughout the day.

There was a knock on my door just as I was comfortable. I put the chocolate on the table, and shuffled over to the door. There was no one there, the only thing that showed any indications that I wasn't going mad and hearing things was a small note that was on the floor. I bent down to pick it up, frowning slightly before looking around for anyone that might have put it there.

Satisfied that no one was there, I shut the door and opened the note.

'Welcome to the game.' I furrowed my eyebrows, I didn't realise that I'd joined any games lately. I scoffed and out the note in the bin, disregarding the whole thing from my mind, wanting to just forget everything that happened to me today, or yesterday as it probably was now.

When I had finished my chocolate, I stared at the wrapper as though it had betrayed me. Although I was now really thirsty the chocolate had made me feel so much better, I sighed as I had to get up to fetch myself a glass of water, loving the feel of the cold liquid going down my throat.

My phone started to ring as I was putting the glass away, looking at the caller ID it said that Mrs Hudson was trying to get in touch with me. I sighed before answering, what happened to this being my day off?

"Hello?"

"Oh hello dear, I know I said this was your day off but I just need you to come in quickly, you see I gave you the only key to the flat downstairs and I need to get in." I rolled my eyes up to the ceiling before looking at my key chain, and sure enough there was the key she wanted.

"Yeah, I'll be over in about five minutes."

"Thank you dear." I sighed as she hung up, before grabbing the keys and heading out. I had to power walk to get there in the five minutes I'd promised but the exercise was doing me good. I felt more alert as I turned onto Baker Street, dodging a lot of police and people who were hanging around, some were even taking pictures of the house that had been destroyed, somehow I had missed the gaping hole that was now opposite my new workplace but I suppose that I wasn't really in the best mindset when I'd left earlier.

I knocked on the door and was practically pulled in by Sherlock. He let me in front of him so that I was leading the way to 221C. I glanced back as I heard him huff at me to move faster, I opened the door as quickly as I could, which proved difficult as the lock didn't want to shift, and moved out the way as Sherlock, John and the police officer Lestrade stormed down there.

I started as Mrs Hudson opened her door, beaming at me as she beckoned me in. I had no choice but to go in, that was until I heard Sherlock call my name. I gave Mrs Hudson an apologetic glance and made my way down the stairs.

"When was the last time you were in here?" He asked when I came into view.

"Must have been yesterday." I replied, looking from him to the random trainers that were on the floor. He crouched down on the floor next to them scrutinising every aspect and then looked around the room.

"I see you've been doing some redecorating." He commented.

"Attempting." I smiled. He nodded, about to ask something else but he was interrupted by the ringing of his phone, which I noticed had a pink case. He cautiously pressed answered and spoke after a slight hesitation.

"Hello?"

"Hello... sexy." It was a woman that answered and she sounded as though she was crying.

"Who is this?" Sherlock demanded.

"I sent you a little puzzle." She sobbed. I exchanged confused glances with John, both of us were completely bewildered, while Lestrade did not move his gaze from Sherlock. "Just to say hi."

"Who's talking?" Sherlock asked. "And why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying. I'm typing. And this stupid," there was a sob. "bitch is reading it out." The womans voice shook as she spoke, clearly struggling to keep talking.

Sherlock mumbled something. "What?" John asked.

"Nothing."

"No, what did you mean?" John persisted.

Sherlock relented "I've been waiting for this for some time."

Our attention was drawn back to the phone as the woman spoke again. "Twelve hours to solve my puzzle Sherlock, or I'm going to be so... naughty." She sobbed again as the line went dead. Sherlock tucked the phone into his pocket and without saying a word to us put some gloves on and picked trainers. He then left the room, leaving us all to wonder what we had just heard.

John recovered quicker than Lestrade and I, quickly following his friend up the stairs. I snapped out of whatever daze I was in as Lestrade tapped me on the shoulder.

"You okay?" He asked, looking at me concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I lied, of course I wasn't okay. First I went through a bombing or whatever it was and now some poor woman was being threatened. I turned and walked up the stairs hearing Lestrade behind me and left the house with a shouted goodbye to Mrs Hudson.

Right now all I wanted and needed was a nice sleep, nothing about threats or insults or near death experiences.

When I got home for the day, I decided to turn my phone off. I wanted no more stress today or really any other day. I began to wonder if me taking the cleaning job at Baker Street was the best decision I could have made, if I was still a waitress nothing like this would have happened to me. I felt a bit guilty being so self-absorbed and pitying when there was that poor woman out there somewhere.

There was a knock on the door that brought me back to the land of the living. I grumpily got out of bed and dragged myself over to the door, I scratched my head as I opened it. Standing outside of my flat was a young man I had never seen before.

"Hello?" I felt distinctly uncomfortable wearing my night wear, I reached behind me to grab a dressing gown which I quickly put on.

"Hi." He smiled. "My name's Jim and I'm afraid to say that I'm rather lost." He had a slight accent that I couldn't quite place so this made me believe that he was probably lost, even more so when he gave me a sheepish smile. "Would you mind if I used your phone?" I bit my lip not really wanting a stranger in my flat no matter how nice he seemed. He gave me an encouraging smile so with a shaky laugh I opened the door wider.

"Sure. Come in." Jim smiled strangely as he brushed past me, seemingly taking in every detail about my flat. I walked past him to grab the landline phone, passing it to him. He started dialling and I relaxed a bit, he would make his phone call and then he would leave.

He smiled at me when he saw me looking at him. I asked if he wanted a cup of tea and when he nodded his reply and started talking to someone on the other end of the phone I slipped into the kitchen and put the kettle on.

To be completely honest he kind of creeped me out, there was something about him that gave me a bad feeling. He seemed alright but you could never tell. I peered round the door to see that he was still talking, the calmed me down about but I still jumped when the kettle made a noise that it had finished boiling.

When I was pouring the water into two cups I felt a wave of unease pass over me. I put the kettle down and peered back into the living room. Jim wasn't there.

"Jim?" I called, feeling more and more uneasy. I looked around the place, breathing deeply to stop panicking. "Jim?"

"Yes?" I gasped and whirled around, my hand on my heart as I spotted Jim leaning casually against the wall behind me. I laughed nervously as he walked towards me, he must have seen me wandering around like an idiot.

"Um, tea's ready." I lied, speed walking into the kitchen to finish it. "Do you want any sugar?" I called.

"One please." I jumped again, spilling some of the sugar over the counter. The voice came from right behind me.

"Don't do that!" I giggled, slapping his chest to cover up any actual fear. I added his sugar and passed him the mug. There was strange glint in his eyes when he looked at me that I didn't like.

But I ignored it.

* * *

**Okay so I've been on holiday for the week so that's why it's taken so long to update. I had no wifi! Oh the horror, the only upside was that this gave me the chance to write the next couple of chapters so I know for sure where this story is going. **

**Review? **


	6. Annoyances

**Chapter Six**

** Annoyances**

Jim left as soon as he finished his tea and I was glad to see the back of him. As I cleared up the mugs I spotted a piece of paper under Jim's. Picking it up I noticed that it was addressed to me.

I never actually told him my name so it was a bit worrisome. I unfolded the paper, noticing it looked very similar to the one I recieved earlier. I didn't know if I wanted to see what it said but my curiosity overrode mt anxiousness and I looked down at it.

'40 hours.' It read. I didn't know what this meant so I threw it in the bin with the other note. One thing was for sure, Jim was never coming into my flat again. I went back to my bed, relishing in the feel of the soft sheets and comfortable pillows.

Waking up the next morning was painful. It seemed there were a few more bruises from the explosion that I hadn't noticed before. Seeing as I had to go to work today I hurried up with getting ready, not worrying about the bruising as I was more worried about being late.

I looked pretty bad in the mirror when I peeked so I put a fair bit of make up on. There was no good going to work if Sherlock was just going to point out all of my flaws like I'm sure he would if he had the chance. Probably not on purpose or out of spite but he didn't seem to have any social awareness or filter from his brain to his mouth. There was no good going outside looking like I'd been hit by a car, I thought as I applied the make up. Besides you never know who you might meet.

I hurried out of the flat, nearly colliding with someone who had passed my front door.

"Sorry." I called without looking back. I soon reached my destination, knocking on the door to be let in by Mrs Hudson. She fussed over me as usual and I let her with a smile, I needed some comforting. It was soon time for me to do some actual work and it was with a hint of sadness that I left the poor landlady and climbed the stairs.

I walked in quite loudly to alert people that I was there and I noticed happily that the widow had been replaced. That was quick. There was still a lot of dust and glass on the floor so I set to work, ignoring Sherlock when he came down and sat on the sofa, watching me clean up.

"You're hurt." He commented after a few seconds. I looked up at him from where I was rearranging some of the books that had fallen.

"What?"

"You're hurt." He repeated, his eyes sweeping over my body. "You keep clutching your left side. Seemingly unconsciously as you haven't noticed it until now of course. I assume it was from yesterday." I looked down to see that I was in fact holding my side.

"I suppose I'm a bit bruised." I admitted, looking up to find that Sherlock had come closer to me. He kneeled in front of me, pressing his hand against my side. I immediately jerked backwards and hit my head on the wall behind me. I felt my face reddening and gulped. He pressed a bit harder and I gasped as pain shot through my side.

I grabbed his hand and looked at him, his eyes had narrowed in on my hand on his as soon as I had touched him and I gulped once more. His long fingers reached around my wrist, fingertips resting on my pulse point which I'm sure had increased. He stared at me, his blue eyes piercing and I felt the urge to lean forward as he tilted his head. I broke out of the trance when John announced his arrival as he came down the stairs, yawning.

Sherlock moved away from me quickly, picking up one of his books and moving in onto the bookshelf behind me.

He stood up to his full height. "Come along John, we have work to do."

John gave him an incredulous look. "You're not even dressed." He pointed out. "And neither am I."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "How dull."

I smiled at their interaction, it amused me to see how different the two men were. Sherlock caught my smile and seemed confused by it although he chose not to say anything.

"Do you two want any breakfast?" I asked, getting up from the chair where I'd been sorting through rubble and books.

"I don't eat while on a case." Sherlock informed me as John said he would like some.

"That can't be healthy." I remarked, looking him over before realising what I was doing and hurried off into the kitchen.

Sherlock and John left as soon as they had dressed which left me with all the mess in the living room. I decided the best way to go about it was to attack. Mrs Hudson came up when I was nearly finished, chattering on about the next door neighbours. I indulged her as she rambled on, humming and nodding in all the right places.

"And that's when she said that he wouldn't get the job." I gasped along with her, heading over the grab a dustpan and brush, satisfied that nothing else of importance was hiding in the dust, before crouching down and starting to clean the dust and glass up.

"That explosion made things so much harder for me." I moaned. Mrs Hudson tutted beside me, looking at all the mess.

"Why don't you take a break dear?" It was the most wonderful thing I'd ever heard her say. I straightened up, hearing my knees click as I did so.

I sat on the sofa, standing up again as I felt something beneath me. I pulled Sherlock's dressing gown from underneath me and felt the silk. It was very nice, I might just have to get one for myself. I folded it up and put it to one side as Mrs Hudson came back.

She happily rambled on, talking about a whole lot of nothing. She handed me a cup of tea which I took thankfully.

"Thanks Mrs Hudson." I took a deep gulp, not caring how it burnt my tongue.

"Of course I distinctly remember Sherlock was using that cup for an experiment with an eyeball the other day." I spat out some of my tea back into the cup. Mrs Hudson gave me a comforting look. "Of course it's been cleaned since then." I grimaced and set the cup down. For some reason that didn't give me much of an incentive to drink from it again, I made a mental note to never have anything consumable here ever again.

I looked cautiously into the kitchen. "He doesn't have any more experiments lying around does he? I mean, I remember the head in the fridge." I shuddered.

"I'll just pop and see if he's gotten rid of those thumbs yet." She said this as casually as if she was talking about gone off milk.

"Yes, the thumbs." I breathed.

/

The rest of the day wasn't so bad, after the mess in the living room was cleared I just had to clean the two bedrooms. Mrs Hudson said I'd have to wait and see what could be moved in the kitchen because God forbid we move one of Sherlock's experiments.

John's room was just as it was the last time I'd been here. I found a couple of tickets to what looked like a Chinese circus on the floor, I put them on his bedside table just in case he needed them although the date had passed.

Sherlock's room was also similar although there was a strange feeling that I was being watched. I looked around the room, in the corners and in the drawers but I couldn't find anything so I imagined that I was just being paranoid.

"Mrs Hudson?" I called.

"Yes dear?"

"Did you want me to do the basement?" I started walking down the stairs.

"If you could dear, there's ever so much to do if I ever want to rent the place out. I suspect it's the mould, I remember when I had a basement flat. It was the early years of my marriage-"

I smiled as she went off on another tangent, this was obviously something she did a lot if today was anything to go by.

I unlocked the door remembering yesterday when I had been called in to open it, there was no sign of the trainers on the floor or that anything was out of place. I could see and feel the damp that Mrs Hudson was talking about but I didn't really know what would help with that so I set about ripping more wallpaper off. I imagined that I would be taking a lovely hot bath when I got home, something to help the bruise that had irritated me ever since Sherlock had mentioned it earlier.

I lifted one side of my shirt up to try and peer down at it, but unfortunately at that moment I could hear John and Sherlock come home.

I didn't want them to see my bruise although Sherlock obviously knew it was there. It would have to wait.

I winced as I stretched too far. Maybe I should get a professionals opinion on it, I thought about asking John but then I thought about Sherlock, for some reason I didn't want him to see it.

I'd go to a different doctor then. Mind made up, I got back to work.

* * *

**AN: What'd you think? I think there are a few spelling mistakes but I can't spot them so if you want, point them out to me. I promise the next chapter has more Sherlock in it. **


	7. Taxi!

**Chapter Seven**

** Taxi!**

It seemed as though everyone was against me as I attempted to get home that evening. People kept bumping into me and I soon got irritated and pained enough to just send glares at anyone who dared get within touching distance of me.

I had never been so happy to get home, I almost launched myself into my bath when it was full. The steam rising from the water looked so very tempting that I stripped quickly and hopped in, wincing as the water was boiling but was too lazy and too relaxed to add some cold water.

I closed my eyes and sighed in contentment. Finally, peace at last.

"Yes, I do suppose hot water is the best solution for those bruises of yours." I shrieked and splashed water everywhere as the voice of Sherlock Holmes reached my ears.

I covered myself as best I could as I glared at him.

"What are you doing in here? Get out!" I demanded. He actually had the nerve to look confused. "I'm in the bath." I pointed out.

"I can see that."

I glared at him even more. "I'm naked!" I spoke furiously.

"It's nothing I haven't seen before." He said this as though it was a valid reason as to why I should let him stay there.

"Get out!" I shouted. He obliged, but not before giving me another confused look. Once the door was safely shut behind me and I felt like it was safe to get up I grabbed a towel and wrapped it tightly around my body. I exited the bathroom to find him snooping around my bedroom.

"What are you doing? And how did you get in here?"

Sherlock merely continued his snooping but he did raise his head to look at me as though the answer was obvious and in his mind it probably was.

"What?" I asked, self-consciously as his eyes travelled down my body.

"Your bruising is more extensive than I thought." I looked down to see that it did in fact cover a lot of the left hand side of my body, which was where I landed. The purple colour had travelled over my shoulder in blocks.

"Did you not get any?" I asked, hoping to get his attention away from me.

"Minor."

"So is that why you've broken in? To talk to me about my bruises?"

He smirked. "We're out of milk."

I stared at him. "Excuse me?"

He walked past me into the living room and sat on the sofa. "We're out of milk, John and I, I would love a cup of tea."

I could have thrown something at him.

"Go make your own bloody tea, and go buy some milk you lazy bugger."

He didn't reply just got off the sofa and headed into the kitchen and I could hear the kettle being put on. The nerve of this man. I looked longingly towards my bathroom, the hot bath calling to me but I did not trust this man alone in my flat.

God knows what damage he could do.

I sulkily got dressed, and when I say get dressed I mean I threw a dressing gown on. It was nice and fluffy not at all like Sherlock's lovely silk one, I might steal it as an act of revenge.

I could hear a load of cupboards being opened and shut so I hurried to the kitchen to find Sherlock was attempting to find the cups, when he did he pulled out two. This surprised me as I didn't expect him to make tea for me, he had only done so once before. It was hard enough to get him to make his own.

He handed me my cup when it was ready, walked past me and sat on the sofa again. His long legs stretched in front of him as he made himself at home. I was so confused about what was happening that I merely sat down next to him. I took a sip of my tea finding that he remembered how I liked it, I smiled into my cup as I glanced over at him.

He wasn't so bad really, and it wasn't just because I found him really good-looking either. He could be nice when he wanted to. Which I'll admit wasn't that often.

It was that moment that I remembered that he'd broken into my flat.

"So how did you get in?" I asked.

He hummed but didn't reply.

"Sherlock," He looked at me. "how did you get in?"

"It was extraordinarily simple." He replied. I waited for the rest of his answer but it never came.

"Is that it?" I huffed, giving up. "You're so annoying." I stole his cup from him when he was about to take a sip. He gave me such an irritated look that I gave it back quickly

"If you must know, I picked the lock." I gaped at him, making a mental note to get a better security system.

I shook my head. "Well I'm going back to my bath." I said, standing up. His eyes followed my movement. "Feel free to leave now you've had your tea." I headed back into the bathroom fully intending to lock the door this time.

/

As it was the weekend and I had these two days off I had imagined myself going shopping or something peaceful, instead I seemed to have been roped into helping out John and Sherlock. I wouldn't if Sherlock hadn't kept texting me every two seconds.

"Require your help - SH."

"Are you on your way? - SH."

And it kept going. I was determined to ignore him, not only had he broken into my flat he had the nerve to walk in on me in the bath a further two times, even though I had locked the door. Next time I'd have to move something heavy in front of it. In the end it had taken a shampoo bottle thrown at his head to get him to leave. Thank God for bubble bath.

I lasted a good ten minutes of ignoring him but then I got a text from John saying that Sherlock was being moody and could I please come so that he would talk again.

I arrived at what locked like a car dealership. I had no idea what this had to do with any case but I saw Sherlock and John, so I hurried over to them.

"Why exactly am I here?" I asked as soon as I reached them.

"You're female." Was the only answer I received as Sherlock immediately went inside to talk to the owner of Janus cars. I realised what his comment meant as soon as we walked in, because as soon as I was in view the man behind the desk, a Mr Hewitt would not take his eyes off me, which made me feel distinctly uncomfortable.

I stood slightly behind John's chair because although Sherlock was standing and would probably hide me better, he kept walking around and I would look very odd stalking him around the room.

Sherlock set about interrogating the man but he did it in such a way that it took me a while to figure out why he was asking so many random questions. Piecing it together slowly I felt quite proud of myself for figuring it out, to be completely honest the man was so intent on watching me and leering that he would have answered anything Sherlock asked him. It was only when he was asked for change that he stopped looking at me and for that I gave Sherlock a thankful glance.

"Thank you for your time Mr Hewitt, you were very helpful." Sherlock opened the door and I immediately went through it, ignoring Mr Hewitt's wink. I grimaced at Sherlock as I passed him but all he did was smirk. Oh how I wanted to slap that smirk off his face.

My violent thoughts were interrupted by John telling Sherlock he had change.

"Nicotine patch remember? I'm doing well."

"So what was all that about?" John asked, as we followed Sherlock out of the garage.

"I needed to look inside his wallet."

"Why?"

"Mr Hewitt's a liar." John and I both looked back at the office, I quickly looked back when Mr Hewitt came into view. I speed walked over to where Sherlock had hailed a cab.

"Am I still needed or can I go home?" Sherlock glanced at me with his lips twitching. I glared at him. "Glad you found that amusing, I've never felt so dirty in my entire life. Now if you'll excuse me," I shoved him away from the taxi smirking. "I'm gonna do some shopping." I laughed at Sherlock's dumbfounded expression as I stole his taxi. I told the cabbie where to go and soon arrived for some much needed retail therapy.

/

Finding myself unable to carry any more bags I hailed a taxi. Hopping in and giving my address I happily looked out the window, relishing the memory of Sherlock looking shocked, something I didn't think was possible.

When the cabbie missed my turning I began to feel uneasy.

"Excuse me?" I was ignored. "Excuse me!" The cabbie turned around and it was to my shock and horror that it was Jim behind the wheel.

"Jim? I didn't know you drove a taxi." I chuckled nervously, fairly certain that he wasn't a taxi driver.

"I don't." I gulped.

* * *

**AN: Dun dun dun. **


	8. Mistakes

**Chapter Eight**

**Mistakes**

I woke up with a scream, I couldn't remember what I'd dreamed about, just vaguely recalling a memory of Jim behind a taxi wheel. The details were slipping from my mind like water through fingertips.

In the corner of my room were the bags I'd bought yesterday. I calmed down remembering how I'd gotten home, by a taxi sure but there was a normal driver and it took about ten minutes.

I peered at the alarm clock beside my bed, the green numbers glowed in the darkness saying that it was five o'clock in the morning. I groaned and shoved my head back into my pillow, but jerked up when I heard something in the kitchen.

I panicked slightly having never suffered a break in before, unless you counted Sherlock, which I didn't because he had announced himself, albeit once he was already inside.

I grabbed the lamp on my bedside table, shuffling towards the door. I opened it slowly wincing when there was a creak and peered out. In the kitchen was a dark figure, it was moving around like it knew what it was looking for. It turned it's back to me or I thought it did and I seized my moment to strike.

I ran forward with my weapon raised high and hit the figure over the head with it, doing a victorious dance when they went down hard. I turned the light on and gasped. Lying on my floor was none other than Sherlock Holmes.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Hadn't this man ever heard of knocking? I grabbed him under his arms and attempted to heave him on to the sofa. It took a lot of energy that I didn't really have seeing as I was half asleep, the adrenalin leaving me when I recognised my shadowy figure.

I peered closer to his head, brushing away his curls to get a better look at the slight cut I'd given him. I felt quite guilty about hitting him on the head with a lamp so I went to get the first aid kit from the bathroom. I hurried back, not wanting to leave the unconscious Sherlock by himself. He was already beginning to stir when I came back to him, I must not have hit him as hard as I'd thought. I got out an antiseptic wipe and brushed it gently over his cut. He hissed and swatted my hand away as his eyes opened.

"You hit me." He accused.

I carried on tending to his cut. "You broke into my flat." I pressed a little harder than necessary. "Again."

He didn't flinch away from the sting of the antiseptic as he'd done before. My eyes softened as I knew it had to hurt and I felt back for doing it. I took that away and pulled out a small skin coloured plaster, amusing myself briefly with the thought of giving him one with kittens on.

"I wanted to say thank you for coming today." He admitted. I was shocked by this and concerned myself with thinking I had actually hit him harder than I should have. I placed the plaster on and brushed his curls back.

I smiled at him. "Maybe you could do it when it's not five in the morning." I stood up, picking up the first aid kit and putting it in one of the cupboards. "Why aren't you asleep anyway?"

"I don't sleep during a case. And besides there's a serial bomber out there who has time for sleep?" I looked at him completely mystified.

"You don't have time to sleep, but what you do instead is break into my flat and try to scare the life out of me?" I smirked.

"Yes well, he hasn't got back to me yet." He sounded a bit depressed when he said this, causing me to look over at him.

"And that's a bad thing? No one's strapped up to a bomb." I reminded him.

"Of course it's a good thing." He sounded strained when he said this as though he knew he shouldn't be annoyed that this wasn't the case.

He sat up and looked at me, his blue eyes peering from beneath his black curls.

"Why did you attack me with a lamp?"

"Are you being serious? You're actually asking me this question?" I gave him a look of disbelief. "Sherlock you broke into my flat. I thought you were a burglar or at worst a murderer."

Sherlock gave me a confused look as though I'd missed something important. I had a feeling he was about to list off all the things I should have noticed and realised that it was him so I glared at him.

"Don't even bother Sherlock, it's five in the morning I don't feel up for being insulted at the moment."

"I wouldn't have insulted you." He looked almost offended at the thought, this look deepened as I started laughing.

It took a while for me to stop, every time I looked at his scowling face I was set off again, I guess my laughter was infectious because his lips kept twitching as though he was trying to not smile.

I poured him a glass of water and handed him a paracetamol. I watched in disapproval as he didn't take the pill but sipped the water.

"So.." I started awkwardly. "Are you going home?" I winced at how rude I sounded but Sherlock didn't seem to mind.

"No." I nodded and bit my lip, not knowing what to do next.

"Well I'm going to go back to sleep." I stood up and pointed over to my bedroom door. "If you do leave can you lock the door behind you?" I didn't wait for an answer as I walked into my bedroom yawning and trying to forget about the man on my sofa. "Blankets and pillows in the airing cupboard." I shouted as I got into bed, drifting off into an uneasy sleep. The good thing about having Sherlock was that I didn't have any more nightmares, which was always a bonus.

I woke at ten o'clock the next morning, stumbling out of my bedroom to be greeted with the sight of a pillow and duvet on the sofa which meant that Sherlock had indeed stayed over last night. I smiled to myself as I put everything away.

I opened the fridge and screamed, finding a severed hand near the butter. I slammed the door shut and was vaguely reminded of my first day of work.

I looked around for my phone completely forgetting where I'd put it and spent about five minutes looking, finding it in the bathroom for some reason and quickly dialled Sherlock's number.

"Hello?" His deep voice came through the line.

"Why is there a severed hand in my fridge?" I demanded.

"Mrs Hudson told me to stop using hers.

"Oh well I suppose it's alright then." I huffed, sarcasm oozing through my words.

"Thank you." He sounded pleased.

"No, no wait!" I shouted before he hung up. "I don't want it in my fridge."

"But you just said-"

I groaned. "That was called sarcasm Sherlock, learn it."

"I'll take it out if you help with this case."

"How am I supposed to help with you case? I'm a cleaner if you've forgotten and it's my second day off. It's Sunday remember."

"Oh how dull. We'll come and pick you up." He hung up before I could refuse or in fact say anything. I chucked my phone away from me, feeling very disgruntled.

So much for my weekend off, I sulked before heading into my room to get dressed.

It was with as much dignity that I could muster that I got into the cab when it arrived. I completely ignored Sherlock in favour of John, greeting him warmly as I sat in between the two men. He gave me an amused glance as if knowing what went on yesterday, which he probably did.

I had no idea where we were going or how much help I was going to be on this case but as usual what Sherlock wants, Sherlock gets.

We arrived at a hospital, St Barts and went straight down to autopsy. I felt a bit queasy at knowing our destination but stayed close as I didn't want to get lost. We met Lestrade at the entrance to the examination room and we entered together.

I stared at the dead woman on the table, she was quite chubby and had dyed blonde hair. Her arm had some strange scratches on that I found unusual.

"Connie Prince." Lestrade announced "She had one of those make over shows on the telly, did you see it?"

I nodded, recalling her from the show that I'd always skipped over. "No." Sherlock replied as he walked around the table.

There was a mousey looking woman hanging about in a lab coat, she was holding a clipboard and giving me disapproving looks. I didn't know what I'd done to offend her so I just ignored it. I didn't want to look at the corpse again so I looked at Sherlock instead.

"Very popular, she was going places."

"Not anymore." Sherlock deadpanned. "So, dead two days. According to one of her staff Raul de Santos she cut her hand on a rusty nail in the garden." I peered over to see that she in fact have a nasty cut on her hand. I felt a bit sick so I looked away quickly, being horribly reminded of the severed hand that was still in my fridge. "Nasty wound. Tetanus bacteria enters the bloodstream. Good night Vienna."

"I suppose." John agreed as he bent over to get a closer look at the woman.

"So what's wrong with this picture?" Sherlock asked, gazing down at the corpse.

Lestrade who had previously been staring at the cut hand looked up. "Ay?"

"Couldn't be as simple as it seems or the bomber wouldn't be directing us towards it." He answered. "Something's wrong." Sherlock set about getting a more in depth look at the corpse, making me feel ill as he went way too close for my comfort.

"It's always the butler." I muttered as Sherlock finished his examination.

"How long would the bacteria have been incubated inside of her?"

"Eight, ten days." John replied, both of the straightening up. "The cut was made later." He realised.

"After she was dead?" Lestrade asked.

"Must have been. The only question is how did the tetanus enter the dead woman's system?" He turned to John. "You want to help, right?"

"Of course."

"Connie Prince's background, family history everything. Give me data." John hurried off to do as Sherlock asked.

"There's something else that we haven't thought of." Lestrade spoke as Sherlock started to walk to the door, me trailing behind for lack of nothing else to do.

"Is there?"

"Yes, why is he doing this? The bomber. If this woman's death was suspicious, why point it up?"

"Good Samaritan." Sherlock shrugged, I scoffed at him.

"He's a bomber." I reminded him.

"Bad Samaritan."

"I'm serious, Sherlock" Lestrade said. "Listen, I'm cutting you slack here and trusting you but out there somewhere some poor bastard's covered in semtex and just waiting for you to solve the puzzle so just tell me. What are we dealing with?"

Sherlock smirked. "Something new." He grabbed my hand and pulled me past the woman with the clipboard who glared at our intertwined hands. I couldn't believe that he even grabbed my hand, must have been a lapse of judgement.

"So how exactly did I help?" I asked, completely lost.

"You kept Molly out of my hair."

"And Molly was? The woman with the clipboard." He nodded without looking at me. "I can't believe you used me for my femininity." I scoffed. "I thought I would be doing something useful." I did not pout, no matter what it looked like. I simply looked upset.


	9. Reality

**Chapter Nine**

**Reality**

I went home after that moment at Barts, I was told quite politely for Sherlock that I was simply going to be in the way. I noticed when I got home that I had nothing in my fridge, except that damn hand which I was determined to return, and nothing in my cupboards. At this rate I was going to starve.

I grabbed my coat as it was slightly chilly as I found out earlier, and called a taxi. I checked the man's face before I got in, recalling my dream from before and calmly got in. I usually would have used the bus but since I was working I could afford to do this, and there was a time when I got on the bus that someone puked all over the seat next to me. It was disgusting and that moment was when I decided to never used the bus again.

Being dropped off at the nearest supermarket I had quite a good time buying loads of junk food that would last me the week. I grumpily decided I would probably need the boring stuff too, like milk and eggs etc. I took a long time to shop, a lot longer than usual.

I was getting sick of seeing the inside of my own flat, feeling like I spent too much time there although it was probably just the nights. I remembered I had work tomorrow, Mrs Hudson and I had arranged a normal schedule of every other day because no-one can possibly be messy enough to need a cleaner everyday. I would probably have to do the bathroom too, I groaned, catching the eye of a middle aged man who was standing next to me in the checkout line.

At least they weren't women, I couldn't imagine Sherlock with an extensive grooming regime, although John might have one or two products. I thought of my regime and realised that I might have to extend it to include a nice hot bath in the morning, at least until my bruising went down. This also reminded me that I should probably get it checked out, the bruise had now gone a lovely purple colour and stung every time I moved.

Didn't look right to me.

I would have to get all of this stuff back to my flat first, I realised as I came out with a few more bags than I could really carry. Luckily there was a cab that was just waiting for me to call it, it stopped in front of me and the nice driver got out and helped me shove everything in.

I told him my address and for a moment I was in my dream, I only breathed again when we turned down into my road. I bundled all the bags together hoping to God that the plastic handles wouldn't break. I was in luck, I got to my door and practically dropped everything as I tried to get to my key. The door didn't want to open for me so I had to bang it open with my shoulder, hissing as it really hurt my side.

I felt like an idiot for forgetting about my bruises when I was just about to go to a doctor's to have them looked at. The last thing I needed was internal bleeding. Although I'm sure something would have happened before now, as it's said It's better to be safe than sorry.

I took the bags one by one and put them on the kitchen side, carefully putting everything away because I was unsure if I'd broken anything with my dropping the bags outside. The eggs were fine, I checked as I put them in the fridge recoiling as my hand brushed something disgusting.

I closed my eyes as I realised what it was.

I stormed into 221B and headed straight up the stairs. Catching sight of Sherlock I rounded on him, once he caught my eye he realised why I was here. How could he not when I was holding his severed hand between some tongs.

"Ah yes, I was wondering when you would come." I glared at him and shoved the hand towards him. "No, no don't handle it too hard. You'll ruin the experiment." He took it.

"I don't care about your experiment." I poked him hard in the chest, he caught my finger and pushed it away.

"You should, finding out the correlation between finger nail growth and-"

"I don't care. I really don't care about finger nails and whatever you were looking for. All I care about it my fridge remaining limb free." His facial expression didn't change, although I knew he was getting annoyed with me, which in turn annoyed me. What right did he have to be angry?

"Fine." He spoke through gritted teeth. He hurried off with the hand, putting it who knows where before returning in time to pick up his phone which had begun ringing. I calmed down knowing that hand would no longer haunt me and turned to see Lestrade smirking at me.

"What?" He shrugged and didn't answer, which annoyed me. "What?" I repeated.

"Nothing. Just didn't expect to see the day when Sherlock gets whipped by a woman." I narrowed my eyes.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" I asked hotly.

He shook his head as Sherlock came back over. The two of them soon hurried off, leaving me with Mrs Hudson who I hadn't noticed before.

She smiled at me, before heading downstairs prattling on about the colours that suited her and then moving on to me. "You shouldn't wear so much black dear, it washes you out." I raised my eyebrows, at looked down at what I was wearing. To be honest I hadn't really noticed before, I just threw anything on because I was too annoyed at Sherlock.

I was indeed wearing all black.

I frowned at myself in the nearest mirror. I thought I looked quite good. And the converse were a nice touch.

I felt a bit awkward just standing in Sherlock and John's flat without working so I decided it was time to leave. I went back home to finish putting everything away before googling where the nearest doctors were.

I had fully intended on going, but before I was even close I was dragged into an alleyway. My shouts were muffled by a hand that went straight over my mouth. Whoever was holding me had put pressure on my side, enough that I wasn't struggling as much as I could have. I tried my best to wriggle free but they just weren't having it, the next thing I knew was that someone had stabbed me in the neck with something. It caught the light as they pulled it away, someone had stabbed me in the neck with a syringe.

That could only mean one thing.

Sure enough darkness was closing in on the edges of my vision. I was in trouble. As a last ditch attempt to get away I sank my teeth into the hand of the person holding me, clearly taken by surprise he shouted and cursed. His hold on me loosened and I managed to pull free.

There wasn't long to celebrate my small victory as I was finding it difficult to remain upright. My eyes fluttered close without my consent and I leant against the wall. My arms were grabbed and I was pulled upright. My tongue felt heavy in my mouth and my teeth felt numb, which was very odd in itself.

The last thing I saw before I gave into the darkness was Jim's face.

When I woke up next I found myself in what seemed to be the backseat of a car. I was surprised that I wasn't in the boot, like a bad movie but grateful nonetheless. I couldn't open my eyes all the way and the most I could do was moan feebly. I started as there was a chuckle above me, I blinked wearily to find that Jim, the man I'd let into my flat was stroking my hair as my head rest on his lap.

I desperately wanted to move but couldn't find the strength as my very bones felt weary. It was as if I had been sapped of all energy, it was not a very nice feeling. All I wanted to do was go back to sleep but my cheek was slapped lightly.

"No, no. We're almost there now. Wakey wakey." Jim sang in an annoying voice. I gulped, trying to get moisture into my throat so I could speak, but to no avail. It still felt bone dry.

My eyes were closing without my permission and this seemed to annoy Jim. "No!" He shouted, my eyes snapped open, a tiny gasp escaped my lips and although it was involuntarily I was still pleased that I managed to make a noise.

"There's a good girl." Jim smiled as he patted my hair, seemingly fascinated by the red strands. I tried to move away but there was still no response.

What was in that drug?

It wasn't long before the car stopped and I was moved from Jim's lap. Seeing as I couldn't move by myself it was awkward when Jim reached back to grab me. I was sat on the edge of the seat so that my legs were out of the car and what looked like a tiny microphone was strapped to my chest. I didn't know what it was for but I knew that it couldn't be any good. My eyes widened and I found the energy to move my hands weakly, attempting to slap his hands away.

He seemed delighted that I was trying to fight and grabbed my hands, taking one of those annoying plastic ties that no one could ever get out of and strapped my wrists together.

It was without further ado that I was pulled upright against his side and we walked, I was half dragged, into what seemed to be a public swimming pool.

I closed my eyes as the smell of chlorine washed over me. This sucked.

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	10. Moriarty

**Chapter Ten**

**Moriarty**

Once we were through the front door I could hear someone speaking, the drugs had messed up my mind so much that I did not immediately realise that it was Sherlock.

Jim's grip on me tightened as he also heard the voice and if I'm not mistaken he was shaking, not from fear, but from excitement.

Jim seemed to think that my scraping feet were making too much noise so he picked me up bridal style. I gasped quietly, not managing to make much of a sound, and clung on as best as I could, knowing that I didn't want to be thrown about, especially if there was a pool. I'd never been the best swimmer.

My eyes drooped lower and lower until they closed, jerking open when we were on the move again. Jim opened the door that lead to the pool while somehow retaining his grip on me, he made no noise and shut it gently, rearranging his grip on me as he went to sit behind a pillar.

It was at this moment that I noticed another person was talking, it sounded like John. I attempted to peer over Jim's shoulder but to no avail.

I could feel tingling in my fingers and I tried to move them, I got excited when I did and they immediately stopped. My mouth still felt really dry and my mind was still foggy.

Jim put my legs on the floor, I knew it should have jarred at bit but I couldn't feel anything.

I jumped when Jim spoke, "I gave you my number. Thought you might call." He let go of me as he stood up, pausing to reclaim his grip on my arm. He moved us both out into the open where I could just about see Sherlock on the other end of the pool, he was looking at Jim steadily. My legs decided to co-operate when Jim decided he wanted to walk a bit closer. "Is that a British Army Browning L9A1 in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?" He taunted.

"Both." Sherlock pulled the gun and leveled it at Jim's head. Jim sighed and tutted before pulling me more in front of him drawing Sherlock's eyes to me. He didn't give anything away, just keeping the gun level. I hoped he had a good enough shot that he wouldn't hit me. It shocked me when Jim moved me away from him so that I could lean on the wall behind.

"Jim Moriarty." He introduced himself as if nothing was happening. "Hi." He took my arm without looking and we started moving closer. "Jim? Jim from the hospital?" Sherlock put both hands on the gun as we approached. "Huh. Did I really make such a fleeting impression?" His voice suddenly went high. "Well I suppose... that was rather the point." He glanced at Sherlock before pulling me around the corner of the pool. "Don't be silly, someone else is holding the rifle. I don't like getting my hands dirty."

I made some sort of strangled noise. "Oh you're different." He assured me. I scoffed.

He went back to ignoring me. "I've given you a glimpse Sherlock just a teensy glimpse of what I've got going on out there in the big bad world. I'm a specialist, you see." He turned us both so we were fully facing Sherlock. "Like you."

"Dear Jim." Sherlock started. "Please will you fix it for me to get rid of my lovers nasty sister. Dear Jim, please will you fix it for me to disappear to South America."

Jim put on a posh voice "Just so."

"Consulting criminal." Sherlock had a look in his eye. "Brilliant." I gave him a look, trying to stealthily move away from Jims arm which was wrapped around my waist. I had got most of the feeling back in my body and I was pretty sure I was able to move. As soon as he felt the muscles in my body tense he held me tighter to him, giving my arm a condescending pat. We both knew I wouldn't be able to get out of his grip.

"Isn't it." I hated the smug tone he had. "No one ever gets to me, and no one ever will."

Sherlock cocked the gun. "I did."

"You've come the closest." Jim admitted, loosening his hold on me as he stared at his prey. "Now you're in my way."

"Thankyou."

"Didn't mean it as a compliment."

"Yes you did."

"Yeah, okay I did. But the flirting's over Sherlock." He raised his voice again. "Daddy's had enough now." He seemed to unconsciously start stroking my back where his hand held me to him. Sherlock's eyes flitted towards the movement. "I've shown you what I can do. I cut loose all those people, all those little problems, even thirty million quid just to get you to come out and play. So take this as a friendly warning." He gripped some of my hair. "My dear." I looked up at his face to see that all previous emotion had been wiped off. "Back off."

He started walking again, pulling me with him. I gave a bit more struggle than I think he expected but he carried on talking as if I wasn't bothering him. "Although, I have loved this." He leered down at me and then looked back to Sherlock. "This little game of ours. Playing Jim from IT, playing gay. Did you like the little touch with the underwear? I especially loved going to check out your little maid." He gave me a squeeze. "Where's the uniform sweetheart?" I hissed at him, trying to pull away but he just laughed at my attempt.

"People have died." Sherlock said, pulling Jim's attention back.

"That's what people _**do**_." He snarled.

"I will stop you."

"No you won't."

Sherlock tilted his head to look at John. "You alright?" Jim let go of me to walk closer to John and before I could take a single step there was a red dot on my chest. I froze.

Jim threw me a smirk over his shoulder, he didn't need to hold me to him at all, he could have just done this. I furrowed my brow and grit my teeth. I hated him.

"You can talk, Johnny boy. Go ahead." John nodded, Sherlock's eyes travelled towards me and I gave him a stiff nod.

"Take it." Sherlock held something out in front of him, catching Jim's interest as he moved over to him.

"Oh. That. The missile plans." He kissed the USB stick before throwing it into the pool. "Boring. I could have got them anywhere." I looked on in surprised as John ran forward and wrapped his arms around Jim's back making sure he wasn't going anywhere. I didn't now what I could do so I just stood there.

"Sherlock run! Lydia!" I wanted to run, I really did. But there was that little matter of probably being shot if I moved. So I stayed put.

Jim gave a short laugh. "Good! Very good."

"Your sniper pulls that trigger Mr Moriarty then we both go up."

"Isn't he sweet? I can see why you like having him around. But then, people do get so sentimental about their pets. They're so touchingly loyal." John gave him a harsh squeeze. "Maybe I should get one, how about dear sweet Lydia over there." My heart started beating loudly against my chest, Sherlock's eyes once again flickered towards me. "But oops! You've rather shown your hand there." A red dot appeared on Sherlock's forehead. "Dr Watson." John let go of him. "Gotcha."

Jim patted down his suit as to get any wrinkles out. I could only see the back of him but I'm sure he had an annoyingly arrogant look on his face. "Westwood." He commented. "Do you know what happens if you don't leave me alone Sherlock? To you?"

"Oh let me guess." Sherlock drawled. "I get killed."

"Kill you?" He made a pained noise. "No, don't be obvious. I mean I'm gonna kill you anyway someday. I don't want to rush it though, I'm saving it up for something special. No, no, no, no, no. If you don't stop prying. I'll burn you." He paused. "I'll burn the _heart _out of you."

"I have been aptly informed that I don't have one."

"But we both know that, that's not quite true." Another red dot was added to my chest, I looked down at them both biting my lip. What did I have to do with all of this. "Well I'd better be off." Jim looked around a bit, back to me and John. "It was so nice to have had a proper chat."

Sherlock rearranged his grip on the gun. "What if I was to shoot you now? Right now."

"Then you could cherish the look of surprise on my face. Cause I'd be surprised Sherlock really I would. And just a teensy bit disappointed." There was a pause where they both looked at one another. "And of course you wouldn't be able to cherish it for very long. Caio. Sherlock Holmes." He turned away moving to use the exit next to John.

Sherlock started to move keeping his gun on Jim. "Catch. You. Later."

_"No you won't."_ Jim sang.

I didn't move until Sherlock went to John to get what looked like a homemade bomb off of him, I stumbled forward to help noting that the dots had disappeared. "Alright? John are you alright?" John mumbled he was fine as Sherlock took the coat and threw it to where I was previously standing as John stumbled over to sit on the floor. Sherlock grabbed my face and looked into my eyes.

"Are you alright? Are you both alright?" I gulped and nodded. Sherlock let my face go, and went to check the door. I sat down next to John, breathing heavily, we both nodded to each other. Sherlock walked past us up and down clearly agitated.

"Sherlock are you okay?" John asked.

"Fine." He stared waving his hands. "I think what you did... was um..." He coughed. "What you offered to do that was um... good." He came to stand next to us.

"I'm glad no one saw that." John spoke.

"Hmm?"

"You two ripping my clothes off in a darkened swimming pool. They might talk."

"People do little else." We all chuckled weakly. I leaned my head against the wall and sighed. John started to get up but stopped when he noticed the red dot was back, I closed my eyes when I noticed mine.

"For God's sake." I hissed as Moriarty came back through the other door.

"Sorry boys." He looked at me. "And girl. I'm sooo changeable. It is a weakness with me but to be fair to myself, it is my _only _weakness. You can't be allowed to continue. You just can't. I would try to convince you but." He chuckled. "everything I have to say has already crossed your mind."

Sherlock looked at John who gave a stiff nod, meeting my eyes briefly as he turned around, holding the gun in front of him. "Probably my answer has crossed yours." I watched, barely breathing as Sherlock lowered the gun so that it was pointing at the bomb.

This was it. This was how I died.

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	11. Staying Alive

**Chapter Eleven**

**Staying Alive**

I gulped at the stare off continued, I could practically see Sherlock squeezing the trigger and all of us would die. I would die. I didn't mean to think so selfishly but in the cold light of the swimming pool and the red dots on my chest there was only so much I could take before breaking down.

Out of no where music starting playing.

_Feel the city breakin'_  
_ And ev'rybody shakin'_  
_ And we're stayin' alive, stayin' alive._  
_ Ah, ha, ha, ha,_  
_ Stayin' alive._  
_ Stayin' alive._  
_ Ah, ha, ha, ha,_  
_ Stayin' alive._

Moriarty closed his eyes and sighed. "D'you mind if I get that?"

Sherlock shook his head slightly. "No, no, please. You've got the rest of your life." They were speaking as if they weren't currently in a showdown for our lives and were chatting over tea or something. He took his phone out of his pocket and raised it to his ear.

"Hello? ... Yes, of _course_ it is. What do you want?" He mouthed Sorry at Sherlock who I assume mouthed something back but from my position on the floor I couldn't quite see, all I saw was Moriarty rolling his eyes as he turned around. All of a sudden he spun back around, looking absolutely livid._ "_SAY THAT AGAIN!" He shouted. _"_Say that again, and know that if you're lying to me, I will find you and I will skin you." He said the last part in a voice so cold that it actually left goosebumps on my arm. _"_Wait." He took the phone away from his ear and walked forward, both Sherlock and Moriarty looking at the bomb jacket.

He looked at the floor briefly with his eyebrows furrowed before looking back at the three of us. "Wrong day to die."

"Oh. Did you get a better offer?" Sherlock asked casually.

He didn't rise to the bait, choosing to turn and walk away slowly, calling over his shoulder. "You'll be hearing from me, Sherlock." He put the phone back up to his ear and casually resumed his conversation. "So if you have what you say you have, I will make you rich. If you don't, I'll make you into shoes." Once he reached the door he clicked his fingers, I noticed that the red dots that were on my chest had disappeared along with my inability to breath. I took a deep breath and crawled closer to John who was still on the floor.

"What happened there?" John asked, after letting out a sigh of relief.

Sherlock looked down at the two of us before replying, "Someone changed his mind. The question is: who?"

"I literally couldn't care less about that right now, what I need is a cup of tea, a blanket and a therapist. Who's with me?" I laughed shakily to myself as I attempted to stand up, Sherlock rolled his eyes before extending a hand to help me.

I was a little unsteady on my feet but I managed enough to in turn help John up. "Time to go." Sherlock states, grabbing both John and my arms, leading us out of the pool and out onto the street, quickly hailing a cab and shoving the two of us in. I realised as I looked down that my hands were shaking, quickly putting them in my pockets before either of my two friends saw them I looked out of the window, finding peace in the way buildings and people flew past.

When the taxi stopped, it was outside Baker Street. I was grateful for this because I didn't really want to be alone right now and hurried up to the door, and as soon as John unlocked it I practically ran up the stairs and sat myself down on the sofa. Both men followed me up and sat on either side of me.

"Feel up for a takeaway?" John asked me, nudging me in the side gently.

My stomach growled at the slight mention of food. "Yeah, sounds good." I closed my eyes and sighed, feeling safe for the first time in ages and relaxed further into the sofa.

"Chinese?" John called from the kitchen where he was holding a multitude of take out menus.

"Sounds great." I opened my eyes at the sound of the television being turned on and was quite surprised when Sherlock appeared to have turned it on, usually he preferred the peace and quiet but when I saw him looking at me I realised that he must have done it for my benefit. I couldn't help but smile at him, chuckling quietly to myself as he turned away from me quickly.

He really was a strange man.

I tested my boundaries by pulling my feet up onto the sofa and lying so that I was leaning ever so gently against Sherlocks body. He stiffened slightly but other than that I wasn't told to get off or move so I happily stayed where I was, the comfort I got just from feeling the physical presence of another was astounding to me right now.

John came back with the phone and a menu telling me to pick out a few things, picking my favourite I handed the menu to Sherlock who randomly pressed his finger on one of the items, John rolled his eyes and disregarded what Sherlock said he wanted and chose something else for him. I laughed at the look on his face and went back to watching the tv. I didn't realise how much I valued the two of them until this moment, this perfect moment that no one else would have found so great.

Once the doorbell rang, I pulled out some money from my purse which was promptly snatched and put back in there by Sherlock who then handed John some money. I opened my mouth to say something but one look from him shut me up, I didn't really want to ruin the moment so I just kept my mouth shut for once. John came back up with his arms full of food, and although I was really comfortable and didn't really want to move I jumped up to help him. I rummaged around pulling out some plates and cutlery, bringing them into the living room where Sherlock sat obviously not bothered enough to help. I put the plates down as John bought the food out and a bottle of pop that I hadn't noticed before.

We lent forward to dish out the food, I handed Sherlock his and he immediately started eating, he must have been hungrier than he thought. I smiled as I picked up my own plate happily tucking into my egg fried rice, duck chow mein and chicken balls all smothered in a healthy dose of sweet and sour sauce with a few prawn crackers thrown on top for good measure.

I was happy here I realised. Eating unhealthy food with the people I clean for. I'd never been happier.

When the food was finished I was a little disappointed, although full to bursting, I was actually bloating so much right now it hurt to even touch my stomach. I would probably be asked to go home soon and I couldn't help but feel a little sad, I didn't want to go home, not with what had happened today.

I was scared.

Looking at the clock I realised that it was quite late and stood up ready to leave, but my arm was taken by a strong wrist and I was pulled to sit back down again. I gave Sherlock a confused look as he wasn't actually looking at me, turning my gaze to John instead he simply gave me a shrug and a smile.

"Sherlock, I should probably go. It's getting late and I have to be back here quite early for work." Sherlock shook his head and swallowed the rest of his drink before turning to me.

"You're staying here tonight." He didn't even ask, assuming that I would want to. He knows me so well without actually knowing me. I smiled to myself as this is what I wanted in the first place but I didn't want him to see so I turned away.

"Well, where am I supposed to sleep?"

"In my bed, I won't be needing it." I opened and closed my mouth a few times, was he actually giving up his bed for me? No, of course not. He probably wasn't going to sleep tonight.

His mind probably wouldn't let him.

I thanked him with a smile, and cheekily pecked him on the cheek before going into his bedroom, the events of the day came rushing back to me and I pretty much passed out.

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	12. Mindless

**Chapter Twelve**

**Mindless**

I woke up with the most painful stretch I had ever done, my arms were above my head and this pulled at the bruising on my side. I winced and stopped stretching, my arms instead going to rub the pain away. I had actually forgotten about the massive bruise in light of recent events but seeing as the colour had instead gone darker instead of lighter I decided to call John in to have a look.

He rubbed his eyes as soon as he came through the door, managing to hide a yawn behind his hands. He smiled at me obviously wondering what I wanted.

"Could you, um, have a look at this for me?" I asked, lifting my shirt slightly, feeling very embarrassed. My embarrassment was completely unfounded as John immediately went into doctor mode.

"This is a big bruise." I chuckled at that. "How exactly did you get it? It's not fresh enough to be from last night."

"It was in the, er, explosion." I mumbled. He nodded before gently touching my ribs, nodding when he got a wince from me.

"Yes, nothing appears to be broken, there are no contusions it seems. I would be happier if you went to the hospital to get an x-ray just in case." I shook my head vigorously. "Didn't think so, okay, well it seems to just be bruised but if it starts to hurt anymore I want you to promise me you'll come and see me." He gave me a stern look until I nodded.

"I will. Am I allowed to get up now?" I asked, although feeling very comfortable at the moment, I really needed the bathroom.

John stood up and held out his hand to help me, his face immediately went red when he realised I wasn't wearing any bottoms although the shirt was Sherlock's that I'd stolen to sleep in so it covered everything.

"Yes, well, I'd better be going." He coughed awkwardly and high-tailed it out of the room, I smiled at how shy he was and wandered out into the living room, hoping to avoid a run in with Sherlock so I could pee and be done with it. My bladder literally felt like it was going to explode and he didn't have to know it but I was going to steal his toothbrush for the two minutes I needed to be minty fresh and ready for the day.

My breath was disgusting right now.

I tried my best ninja like moves to get past without being seen but of course, this was Sherlock Holmes and he was not one to miss anything.

"Hello Lydia. I trust you slept well." I winced and turned around to face him, he wasn't looking at me, god forbid, and was instead cleaning the bow of his violin, I got the impression that he was slightly put out by the fact he didn't get to wake me up with his playing but this must be wrong, Sherlock would never. I rolled my eyes at that thought, of course he would.

"Very, if you'd just excuse me-"

"John looked over your injuries?" He enquired with a raised eyebrow, the cloth he was using to clean the bow was now put to one side and he raised the bow to his eyes to inspect it in greater detail.

"Yeah, nothing too serious. Like I said, now if you don't mind I really need to-." Again, I was interrupted and it took all the self-control I possessed to not start to do to toilet dance.

"We're going out today, I need you to come with us." I gaped at him.

"Does John know you're going anywhere because I think he's actually gone back to bed?" Sherlock sighed and pinched his nose with his forefinger and his thumb and shook his head.

While he was distracted by what he thought was the idiocy of his friend I finally slipped away into the bathroom. I was done quickly and practically ran back into the bedroom to avoid another conversation with Sherlock, it was at this point that I realised that I needed to go back to mine so I would have something other to wear that Sherlocks shirt and my dirty clothes from yesterday.

I threw my old clothes on and went back into the living room. Sherlock was still sat there but this time he was watching the T.V which I found to be very amusing because he didn't seem like the kind of man that would be able to sit and stare at a box for any amount of time. I laughed quietly and went to make a cup of tea. I rolled my eyes before getting one for Sherlock as well, he probably wouldn't touch it but I felt better about my manners none-the-less.

I placed the mug next to the arm of his chair and sat on the sofa opposite. He blinked slowly and reached for it, sipping calmly. I wondered why he hadn't spoken to me yet but I realised as he looked at the television that he was either sulking that I'd left in the middle of our conversation or he'd retreated to what I'd heard John once mockingly say was his mind palace.

Sherlock had agreed instantly.

And going by the glazed look in his eyes as I moved closer, I was going for the latter option. I snickered quietly before moving my hand in front of his face, there was no reaction. I put my tea down on the table and looked to see if John had come down yet. He hadn't. I bit my lip before taking this chance to just look at this incredible man that I'd met, he had the sharpest cheekbones of anyone I'd ever met, his hair was so gorgeous I just wanted to run my hands through it and his eyes, glazed over as they were, were the bluest I had ever seen. This man was truly a work of art.

It was at this point that I saw that he was no longer in his 'mind palace' and was now smirking at me. I refused to back down though and stared into his eyes for a few seconds, from the corner of my eye I could have sworn that his hand was reaching upwards but this was the moment that John decided to come down the stairs.

Sherlock immediately stood up and even though he would deny it I thought I saw a pale pink colour coat his cheeks before they went back to their normal pale colour. He moved away from me, put on his coat and scarf before sweeping down the stairs leaving John and I to follow.

By the time we had made it down the stairs Sherlock had already called a taxi, I stood by the door and smiled at the two.

"I'll meet you there."

Sherlock scoffed. "Just get in the taxi Lydia."

"I need to go home first." I slammed the door to the taxi, waving merrily at them when they sped off, making a phone with my hand and placed it by my ear, seeing Sherlock scowling at me, which made me laugh.

I walked back home, smiling slightly at the look on his face, and I got home soon enough. I unlocked the door and stepped into my flat for the first time in what felt like forever. Compared to Baker Street this place was practically the slums but I quickly pushed that thought out of my mind, home was home. I went to my room and stripped off, feeling gross for wearing those clothes for so long and put some fresh ones on. I grabbed something to eat from the kitchen before leaving again, knowing that with Sherlock running about I would need some energy.

I didn't see the hidden camera in my fruit bowl, I never looked there. I didn't see the other as I was getting changed, hidden behind a picture of me and my parents and I didn't see the one that was hidden in the lamp by the front door that was currently recording me as I walked past it, shutting the door and locking it, feeling happy as I felt the vibration in my pocket that signalled I had just received a text.

"Baker Street, five minutes. – SH" I wondered why they were back already frowning slightly as I began my journey. I got there in fifteen minutes as I walked at a normal pace, there were a few annoying people on the path today, those people who walk so slowly I just wanted to push them out of the way, but this was London and I was polite so I crossed the road.

I sighed before knocking on the door, I heard banging as someone came down the stairs and the door flew open as Sherlock grabbed my wrist and pulled me inside. I flailed a bit before regaining my balance as I was almost dragged up the stairs, as we reached the door to their flat I wondered what was so important that I had to be up there so quickly. I sighed as I realised that I was going to be a part of one of Sherlocks experiments.

"I want to record the bruise on your side." He said, staring at me.

"Come again?"

"I want to record the healing process, if you would be so kind as to allow me to collect a sample of the skin over the bruise I may be able to come up with a process that would speed it up." He spoke so quickly that I couldn't really understand him so I just nodded. I had learnt it was easier to just go along with it.

"So where did you two go?" I asked, feeling uncomfortable as Sherlock came closer.

"We went to Barts, you were supposed to come with us so instead I bought back some equipment." Sherlock motioned for me to lift my shirt, so I showed the least amount of skin as possible, he gently held my side as he scraped a tiny amount of skin off the other.

"Are you allowed to do that?" I asked, regretting asking it immediately as he smirked at me. "Okay then, another question. Where's John?"

"In here!" He called from the living room. Now that I knew he was there I could hear him typing. "Keep going, this is great." I furrowed my eyebrows as I moved away from Sherlock who went to the nearest microscope and starting adding things to his new sample.

"What are you doing?" I asked as I saw him sat on the armchair facing us and typing something quickly.

"He's writing his blog." Sherlock deadpanned.

"Oh? I didn't know you had a blog." I walked over and attempted to start reading some of it but John shut the lid of the laptop. As I turned to give him a look, he smoothed down his hair nervously and I realised what he was typing. "You were writing about us?" I glared at him, and smacked his shoulder lightly. "Don't you have anything else to write about?"

"You two are by far the most interesting things in my life at this moment."

"Oh, so we're things now." I narrowed my eyes even more, finding great amusement in the way he floundered for a response, I started laughing when he starting stuttering. There was nothing funnier than John Watson under pressure.

**AN: Hi everyone! So this chapter, I decided to lay some groundwork into what I think would be an awesome storyline, hope everyone has enjoying this chapter, sorry there wasn't much action so instead I decided to throw a little Sherlock/Lydia interaction in instead. **


	13. First Time For Everything

**Chapter Thirteen**

**First Time For Everything  
**

I was on my way downstairs to get some cleaning supplies from Mrs Hudson when I heard a knock on the door. I frowned before opening the door, standing in front of me was a man in a suit, holding a briefcase.

"Hello?" He nervously looked up at me.

"Hi, yes, is this the address for Sherlock Holmes?" He asked, playing the sleeves of his jacket.

I was about to reply when someone came down the stairs behind me, I turned to see the man himself, Sherlock was walking to see who was at the door, upon seeing the man he gestured for me to let him in. I stepped aside and watched as the man nervously followed Sherlock up the stairs. I chuckled and smirked before walking to Mrs Hudson's door, tapping it lightly.

"Hello dear, yes here you go." She had anticipated what I wanted and I laughed as I took them from her as she shoved them into my hand. "Sorry dear, but Eastenders is on and it's there's supposed to be some sort of twist." We heard a shriek from the t.v in the next room and Mrs Hudson basically shoved me out through the door and shut it behind her. At least now I knew to never get between the woman and her programs.

I had the bucket of supplies and trudged my way upstairs, recalling the strange man who was upstairs. I tried my best not to draw any attention to me, but as the man was sat in the middle of the room on the least uncomfortable chair they had, Sherlock was looking in my general direction anyway. So when his eyes immediately snapped to me, I knew it wasn't because of the amount of noise I was making. I decided to leave the living room for now and start in the kitchen.

I was wary of any experiments that Sherlock had going on, there was always something here that would make me gag so I had learnt my lesson. I kept half an ear out for what they were talking about but generally went around minding my own business.

"My wife," the man began, "she seems to be spending a lot of time at the office -"

He was cut off. "Boring." Sherlock deadpanned. I stifled a chuckle and moved something slimy off the counter and into the bin. I hope he didn't need that. The man obviously didn't know what to say next because I didn't hear him say anything except some random stuttering as he tried to convince Sherlock to take his case. I took out a tea towel and swiped down the sides, getting all of the crumbs that had managed to make their way to the back of the counter.

I heard the guy leave, stomping down the stairs, swearing as he went. I peeked into the living room to see John staring open mouthed at Sherlock, I could only imagine what he'd said to get the nervous guy I'd met downstairs into such a bad state. He caught my eye and motioned for me to come over, I sighed before placing down whatever decapitated body part was in my hand and made my way over.

"Lydia I need you to go downstairs and fetch Mrs Hudson." I blinked at him.

"What?" I asked. "Why can't you do it." He sighed as he lay down on the sofa, putting both hands together as he did so.

"I'm busy." I furrowed my eyebrows.

"Doing what?"

"Shh." I gaped at him.

"Did you just shush me?"

"Shh."

I turned to look at John, who apparently knew that I was going to shout at Sherlock because he started towards the stairs. "Mrs Hudson!" I turned back to Sherlock and stalked towards him. He lazily cracked an eye open and watched as I approached, seemingly uninterested. I scowled at him, staring down at him before jumping on him.

"Oof." He tried to curl in on himself but because I was in the way all he managed was a half-awkward sit up. His arms came to rest of my waist as he tried to shove me off him, but I was having too much fun now. The ball was in my court for once. And I was going to take full advantage of this. I moved slightly so that I was straddling him. He looked shocked by his actions and I got the feeling that he'd never been this close to a woman before and the thought made me smirk a bit.

I leaned over his frozen body and looked him directly in the eye, barely an inch separated us. I smiled at him. "Are you going to tell me to shush again?" He gulped as he looked at me, trying to avoid my gaze. He shook his head slowly, so I backed off a bit still sat on his torso. To be honest I was enjoying this a lot more than I should, but could you blame me? This guy was the definition of handsome. My ears perked at the sound of John and Mrs Hudson coming up the stairs, so I quickly jumped off Sherlock, smirking at him once more before I bent over to pick up my bucket of supplies and headed off to John's bedroom.

It was quite a mess as I realised that I hadn't been in here to clean for a while, I sighed as I picked up some of his washing, a grown man John was supposed to be and yet his room could have belonged to a teenager.

I shuffled into the bathroom and smiled when I saw the usual grooming products John used lined neatly on the shelf. If only he kept his bedroom like this, it would be a lot less work for me. I quickly cleaned the room and left, turning the light off when I did so, it was one of my biggest pet peeves when someone left the light to a room on when there was no one in there.

Moving on quickly I went down to Sherlock's room. This was the room I enjoyed cleaning the most, because there was hardly anything out of place most days, all it needed was a hovering and dusting and I was done. I almost had a heart attack when I turned around, arms full of laundry he'd nicely placed in a pile for me, and saw Sherlock observing me from his place leaning against the door frame.

I imagined he was plotting some sort of revenge because of what I'd done earlier. I couldn't help but smirk at the memory though, a fact that he immediately caught and smirked back. I narrowed my eyes at him, what was he thinking about? I tried to walk past him but his arm shot across to the other side of the door frame, blocking my way.

I peeked up at him. "Something you wanted?" I shifted the pile of laundry to the other side of my body and tried to squeeze past again. I failed. "Sherlock, what?"

He swooped down to gently press his lips against mine, I floundered for a moment completely taken by surprise. I dropped the laundry and before I could do anything else, he'd pulled away. I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out.

"Interesting." He murmured, peering at me, before turning on his heel and headed back to wherever he came from. I gently touched my lips with my fingertips, they were still tingling. I snapped out of it and picked up the laundry again, looking out for Sherlock as I passed the living room. I couldn't see him so I just sighed and went down to do the washing in Mrs Hudson's washing machine.

I knocked on the door, hoping that she wasn't in the middle of one of her shows and waited. "Hello dear." She spotted what I was carrying. "Yes, yes, come on in. Do you want a cuppa'?"

I shuffled through, heading towards the washing machine and smiled at her. "Yes please." I really needed one right now. I shoved everything in and set it to begin. I then turned to sit at the table as Mrs Hudson went about making tea. We chatted for while, but I knew that I wanted to talk to Sherlock, so with that in mind I stood up.

"Thanks for the tea Mrs Hudson, but I should be getting back to work. You don't pay me to sit around and talk." I smiled at her, knowing that was basically all I did.

"Oh don't worry about that dear, but if I could ask that when you come tomorrow if you could give the downstairs room another sweep around?" I nodded before going back upstairs.

**AN: So there we have it! Their first kiss, how exciting. I really think this is sort of the way that Sherlock would go about it, except maybe a little less door way thing I had going on there. Anyway I hope you enjoyed it and thanks for staying with me this far. And don't forget to review :) **


	14. Nerves

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Nerves**

I walked slowly up the stairs, trying to figure out what I was going to say. I had never thought I'd be in this position with Sherlock of all people, I didn't think he even knew what attraction was but he had kissed me. What did that mean? I couldn't torture myself with these questions so I opened the door to the flat.

I bit my lip as I looked around, not seeing Sherlock anywhere. I huffed before beginning my search. It actually didn't take long for me to find him, if he wasn't in the living room or the kitchen there really was only one other place he would be. I opened the door to his bedroom and shut the door softly behind me. He was lying on his bed with his hands clasped over his stomach peacefully, he actually looked like he was asleep so I decided to not wake him up. He probably wouldn't like me too much after that.

However as I went to open the door I heard him sit up. "Stay." I bit my lip before turning around to face him, I didn't know what to say to him. Coming to see him was a bit mistake and I couldn't help the slight feeling of dread I felt as I looked at him. Was he going to reject me?

"Lydia." My head snapped up, he hardly ever used my first name, he was probably going to let me down gently. Well gently by Sherlock's standards.

"Yes Sherlock?" I hoped he couldn't hear the tremble in my voice, how embarrassing.

He got out of bed and came to stand in front of me. I didn't dare look into his eyes for fear I might just break down here and now. "I'm sorry."

My eyebrows furrowed. "For-" he cut me off by pressing his lips to mine again. I was completely shocked again, he really needed to give me some warning before he did things like this, but it wasn't long before I melted in his arms. He pulled away slowly, looking deep into my eyes as he did so. He gave me a soft smile I didn't even know he was capable of and pecked me on the lips again.

I tried to speak but words were completely lost to me at this point. So he took the initiative.

"Lydia." He paused, obviously struggling with what to say. I was glad this affected him as much as it did me. "I have been having unusual feelings towards you for some time now. I don't know what to do about it and that is not me at all."

I decided to help him out. "Are you saying you fancy me?" I grinned up at him, which soon widened when I saw the small amount of red that decided to rise to his cheeks. "I'm gonna take that as a yes." I reached up to kiss him again. "I fancy you too."

His eyes widened, clearly he hadn't been expecting that from me but I just loved to make his confused. "You do?" His words seemed rushed, excitement clearly laced through them.

My grin never left my face. "Yeah."

He swooped me up into another kiss, and I had to say for someone who may have never kissed anyone before he was really, really good. We probably would have continued kissing for a while if John hadn't decided now was a great time to wake Sherlock up.

"Sherlock I was-. Ah." We disconnected our lips and both looked at John who was unable to look away from us. It was one of those really long awkward moments that was getting painful. I decided to end it.

"Right, I'll see you tomorrow." I ducked my head and avoided John's gaze as I walked past him. Well I would have if he hadn't planted his hand on the door frame not letting me out. I had a strong sense of de ja vu and hoped to God he wasn't about to kiss me as I backed up a couple of steps.

"Wait a minute." He blinked rapidly, looking between Sherlock and I. "Are you two?" He didn't really need to finish that sentence, we both understood what he meant. I looked at Sherlock shyly, were we? He nodded at John, keeping eye contact with me.

"Yes Lydia and I are now a couple."

* * *

Since that moment life was absolutely perfect for me. There had been a few minor cases that Sherlock had taken but he had been growing increasingly bored. However he wasn't as annoying as he was before because now he had something to do that could relieve his boredom. He would usually start to kiss me, or just start touching me. We hadn't gone all the way yet, I don't think he had ever had sex before and I didn't want to rush him into something he felt uncomfortable with it, so I waited for him.

He made it worth my while though.

Then there came the case with the backfiring car. The man had rang the doorbell and was soon ushered in by Mrs Hudson. I was actually doing my job for once, dusting Sherlock's skull that was on the mantelpiece.

"I went to look at him again, after the car went off and there he was lying at the bottom of the hill." He gulped. "Dead."

Sherlock had a small smile growing on his face. "I'll take it." He was only dressed in his sheet but still somehow managed to make himself seem intimidating to the poor man, who I could tell wasn't the killer because he was so sweaty and nervous why on earth would he come to a private detective?

"John you need to go to the crime scene."

John started spluttering. "What? But this is your case. You need to go and look yourself." Sherlock shook his head.

"I'm not leaving this house for a six, take your laptop, it has a webcam that is good enough." John simply stared at him, completely bewildered, before he huffed and snatched up his laptop. He poked his head back through the door.

"Where?" Sherlock pointed at the man who reeled off the destination. John gave Sherlock another glare before he left, making sure to slam the door behind him.

I walked over and ran my hand through Sherlock's hair. "You are so lazy. And are you naked under that sheet?" I pulled on it playfully, making him smirk at me. I took that as a yes. I laughed before going into the kitchen to clear up some of the experiments. I picked on of them up and peeked at it, something started bubbling and I quickly put it back down.

"Hey Sherlock, what am I allowed to move?!" I screamed as something erupted and covered me in a load of gunk. I breathed deeply as I tried to calm myself, hoping that whatever was on me wasn't poisonous or corrosive. "Sherlock!" He peered over his shoulder at me and had to smother a chuckle as my glare was directed at him. "What is on me?" I screamed.

"Nothing to worry about. I took out the more dangerous experiments yesterday, I would recommend you have a shower and thoroughly scrub your skin." I rolled my eyes, why was it always me? I swept into the living room and grabbed my bag.

"I'm going home for the rest of the day. Text me if there's anything interesting and I'll text you if I'm in the hospital." I shook some of the gunk off me and proceeded down the stairs. I knew I could have had a shower there but I was feeling really gross and wanted the comfort of my own bed. Plus I could always come back later.

I got home quickly, ignoring any stares I got. This was London, no one was going to tall to me and for that I was thankful.

Pushing the door open, I got to the bathroom and stripped. "Urgh." I grunted as some of the gunk was stuck on my skin, I started up the shower and hopped in quickly. I scrubbed my skin until it was practically raw, but thankfully all of the stuff was off me. I was a bit worried something bad was going to happen to me, like a rash but since nothing came up I stopped.

I got out and dried myself, keeping the towel wrapped around me as I stepped into my bedroom. I was not prepared for what I found in there.

It was Moriarty. I forgot he knew where I lived, I had actually forgotten all about him due to my being in my Sherlock bubble. I grabbed at my towel to make sure it wasn't going to fall down and just stood there. This was one of the most dangerous men I had ever met and here he was lying on my bed like nothing was wrong with his picture.

He sat up and smirked at me, but unlike with Sherlock's smirk this one made me want to smack him in the face.

"Hello my dear." He leered at my half naked form and I reached behind me for the door handle. I grabbed it but before I could turn it he had jumped off the bed and slammed his body into mine. I gasped at the pain and looked up at him. The manic glint in his eyes scared me but I refused to show it.

I may have only been in a towel but I would prove myself in this moment. And to do this, I kneed him in the balls. His face screwed up and he let go of me, I took this chance to run into the bathroom, before he could get back up I slammed the door behind me and locked it. I was safe for the moment.

But I wanted to cry.

* * *

**AN: So there we go, things are starting to heat up. I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter and how they got together I know it might seem a bit quick but Sherlock's the kind of guy who doesn't like to beat around the bush and he's confused at that point so he'd want to know why. Bless his heart. Anyway, tell me what you thought :) **


	15. Sleep

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Sleep**

I slid down the door and sat there as I heard him get up, he started chuckling, quietly at first but it got louder quickly so he was full on laughing. I gulped, he sounded insane. It wasn't a laugh, it was more of a cackle and that frightened me more than I would ever admit. I held the towel over my body hoping to remove some of the goosebumps that had arisen.

I leant my head against the door, eyes closed. His laughing had quieted down again. It didn't soothe me at all, tears sprang into my eyes and threatened to fall, but I wouldn't let them. I breathed slowly, there had to be a reason why he was here. I just hoped he wasn't here to kill me. I couldn't deal with that right now.

"Oh Lydia, come out come out." Moriarty sang, I could tell that he was pressed up against the door and I shifted as I heard the door handle creak, looking up I saw that it was moving slowly, he was trying to get in. I held a hand over my face and tried to make no noise as I gasped. I heard his footsteps as he moved away from the door.

I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering what he was doing. I shot up as I heard his footsteps approach the door quickly. I moved out of the way just in time for the door to come flying in, I screamed as bit of wood came flying off and cut me. The door went straight into the bathtub, Moriarty caught himself on the sink opposite me, grinning sadistically at me.

I scrambled to get out of there, I had to find my phone and get Sherlock. He would help me. But before I could reach the door, Moriarty pushed himself off the sink and lunged towards me, grabbing onto my arm and pulling me back against him.

"Not so fast, my dear." He whispered, pulling my hair back so he could whisper into my ear. I shuddered, held the towel closer to my body and tried to pull away. He was too strong for me though and I was spun around to face him. I could feel the cold water drip down my neck as my hair was still wet and his eyes followed a trail down my neck. I tried to pull away again when he was distracted but it only bought his attention back to me.

"Let me go." I forced through gritted teeth. I took one hand off my towel and tried to hit him but he caught my wrist, leaving the remaining hand on the small of my back to keep me anchored there.

He grinned at me, taking the opportunity to look down at my towel and the one hand keeping it there. "And why would want to do that?" He asked as tilted his head when he looked at me.

"Because if you don't, I'm going to make sure you can't reproduce." I hissed, twisting in his grasp, wincing as he tightened his hold. He pulled me in closer to his chest to make sure I couldn't move.

He hummed as he absent-mindedly rubbed circles where his hand was placed on my towel, I wiggled when his other hand let go of my wrist now I couldn't move away and it moved to wrap around my throat gently. He squeezed a little when I tried to move my head.

"Ah, ah. With a mouth like yours you shouldn't be saying those sorts of things." I sneered up at him, trying to move my leg so that I could make good on my promise, but the hand around my throat tightened enough to cut off my air supply. He smiled down at me. "See what happens when you misbehave? People get hurt."

I choked, both hands coming up to try and prise his from around my throat, my eyes widened in absolute horror when I felt my towel start to slip. He must have noticed because he grinned wider and looked down. I felt tears start to emerge as it slipped lower and I quickly caught it before it could completely slip off.

He pouted at me, gently pulling the towel again. I hissed through my teeth, his hand had removed itself from my throat and instead was now resting uncomfortably on my chest, just under the collarbone.

"What do you want?" I spat at him, wanting nothing more than to get out of this situation.

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes following his hands trail as it moved across my collarbone and neck. "What do I want?" He pondered this question before sighing. "Why do people have to ask the most obvious questions, for once I'd like some variety."

"Maybe if you didn't do this so much you wouldn't have this problem." I hissed, taking advantage of his momentary distraction and this time managing to break free. I was surprised I'd actually did it before taking one look at his rapidly darkening face and made a run for the doorway. I managed to dodge his fingers and sprinted out of my bedroom and into the kitchen where I grabbed the biggest knife I owned.

I waited, expecting him to come barreling after me. But he didn't. He casually walked in like nothing was wrong and he was just visiting. He smirked at me before looking down at my chest, I glared at him, moving my towel up my body. I wish I'd gotten dressed before he turned up, scratch that, I wish he'd never shown up.

But then I noticed the red dot on my chest. I sighed, "Oh come on! Do snipers just follow you around all the time?" I was tempted to move out of view of the window but that would mean going closer to the devil and I didn't want to get burned again.

He shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets as he walked closer. "It's what I pay them for and they can be so useful at times." He stopped at the counter opposite me. "How about you put that knife down and we can have a nice chat?"

I scoffed. "You mean like the one we just had? I didn't really enjoy that."

He pouted again, then lowered his voice. "You don't mean that. I think you enjoyed it more than you think you did."

I scoffed again. "I really, really don't think I did."

He narrowed his eyes at me, motioning for me to put the knife down. "Be a good girl and do what daddy tells you. I don't want to hurt you... but I will. If I have to." Any playfulness he had was completely gone and I knew now he was being serious. And as reluctant as I was, I put the knife down.

The dot disappeared from my chest and I sighed in relief.

"You want to know what I want?" He asked. I nodded. "I want to see what Sherlock would do if one of his pets went missing. Didn't you get my message?" He pulled something out of his pocket, some pips. I vaguely recalled an envelope filled with some pips like that, I had put it in the bin. Now I realised that it was a warning.

I stepped back as he smirked at me. "You remember don't you?" I didn't reply, instead turning to run out of the door but was stopped when something pierced my neck. I reached up and pulled out a little black dart, wincing as it stung like hell. Whatever was in there was strong as it started making me feel sleepy straight away, my escape was cut short as my limbs stopped responding to my brain. My eyelids drooped as I slumped against the wall, watching as the blob I knew to be Moriarty walked over to me. The hand that was holding the towel up slackened but luckily it didn't fall.

"Sleep." His voice had deepened and I had no choice but to do as he said as the drug completely washed over me and I slipped into unconsciousness.

When I came back around, I was in an unfamiliar room that wasn't in my flat. I panicked as I tried to move my arms and legs but couldn't. I panicked even more when I realised I had been dressed. I was now wearing a flimsy nightgown that barely scraped my thighs. I wasn't in any pain though so any immediate worst scenarios were erased from my mind.

But this still wasn't a good situation for any female.

I assumed the drug was still working and that was why I couldn't move because as far as I could see there was nothing holding me down. I heard footsteps coming from above me, they were slowly walking down the stairs to the room I was in. Whoever they were didn't turn the light on, instead standing in the shadows so that I couldn't see them.

But then they stepped into the light.

**AN: Whoever can guess who it is will get special mention in the next chapter. It's gonna be good, let me tell you this now. I have the best idea ever and I know you guys are gonna love it! Or I hope at least :) Anyway, tell me what you thought.**


	16. Now You See Me

**Chapter Sixteen**

**Now You See Me**

I shivered as I pulled Sherlock's coat closer around me, the nighty that I was still wearing didn't provide me a whole lot of warmth as I stood out in the cold. I spotted John a little ahead of me talking to Mycroft and looking increasingly frustrated which I couldn't really blame him for.

Sherlock was no where to be seen, he'd given me his coat and then wandered off somewhere, probably to find some evidence or to annoy someone. I gave up thinking about him for the moment, he always did something you didn't expect. Like giving me his coat, I didn't think he was that nice to be honest, we may have had something going on but he always seemed to not notice what other people were feeling it was very strange that he had been as compassionate as he was with me. I liked it.

It didn't last long though, he's placed his coat on my shoulder, pulled on the collar of his jacket and disappeared into the night. I sighed, waiting for John to come and talk to me.

He didn't take long, hurrying over to me and pulling me into a hug. "We were so worried." I gave him a look. "Okay, I was worried. Sherlock acted like he wasn't but I'm pretty sure he was." I gave him another look. "No seriously, he wasn't as focused as usual. We didn't know you were gone until the next day because Mycroft had us pulled into Buckingham Palace, no word of a lie, and made us go after this dominatrix woman."

"A dominatrix?" I asked in disbelief, but then chuckled. "How did Sherlock react to that?" I could only imagine what his expression was, he wasn't really a sexual guy so this would have been out of his 'area of expertise' of course I soon hope to change that.

John laughed. "How'd you think? He wasn't too impressed with her, although she did come out naked" He paused as a sudden realisation hit him. "He mentioned your name and then started mumbling, I think he may have imagine it was you in-"

"John!" John stopped talking and looked towards the door where Sherlock had appeared, pausing to give me a wink before hurrying over. I watched them go, Sherlock had motioned John to walk before him and stared at me, the look of concern was obvious even from this distance but I waved him off. He needed all the hints he could get to finally get Moriarty and I definitely wanted him to get him.

I walked over to a nearby bench and sat down, pulling Sherlock's coat around me so that it covered my legs which were now covered in goosebumps. I shook my head as I remembered them finding me.

Mycroft stepped into the light, I sighed in relief and whimpered catching his attention. He was for once without his umbrella but I could see that wasn't his own choice as he seemed to keep reaching for it as he walked over casually, as if I wasn't stuck here and in some really revealing nightwear.

I was thankful that he didn't make a big deal out of it. He calmly walked over to me and checked that I was okay before talking. "Are you unable to move?" He asked, I tried but found it was too difficult even to nod so I whimpered again instead. He sighed before patting my hand.

"It's okay." He said before pulling out his phone. I just lay there as he began talking to whoever it was on the other end of the phone, growing increasingly frustrated by my weakness. "She's fine." He paused. "Yes I'm with her now." He then snapped his phone shut as someone else came down the stairs.

Sherlock immediately came over to me, his eyes running all over my body to make sure I was okay, I didn't feel violated by the way he was looking at me, I knew it was Sherlock's way of reassuring himself that nothing had happened to me. He grabbed my hand, not caring that Mycroft was there and this was very unusual for him, but I definitely wasn't complaining.

"Sherlock!" I heard John shout as a door was slammed overhead, Sherlock didn't respond to him instead leaning over me and checking my pulse. He could obviously tell that I couldn't move and was trying to figure out why.

"Sherlock!" John ran down the stairs, almost falling and having to catch himself at the bottom when he noticed us. I was amused at the way he had to look away because he was blushing bright red when he saw what I was wearing. This didn't stop him from coming over to me however and in his doctors mode he was immediately worried.

"What's wrong with her?" He asked, Sherlock removed his hand from mine.

"She's been drugged." He motioned towards my lips, which I was assuming had turned a different colour or something. "Her heart rate is too slow for her to move, her body is mirroring sleep but she is fully conscious." John nodded and checked my pulse.

"We should get out of here." He suggested, Sherlock nodded and scooped me up into his arms, he had clearly came to the conclusion that it wouldn't hurt me.

"Sherlock." Mycroft said, stopping Sherlock in his tracks. "You know who did this." Sherlock nodded and without so much as another glance at his brother he climbed the stairs, John hovering behind us worrying immensely.

I shook my head as a breeze fluttered around my feet. I had been so glad when they'd found me but now all I wanted to do was go home. Mycroft came to sit beside me, I shot a look in his direction but he wasn't looking at me.

"Sherlock and I know who took you." I nodded. "We also know how." I turned to look at him, clearly he was getting somewhere with this. "And we all know why." Mycroft sent me a hard look. "Your relationship with Sherlock has clearly become a point of interest to our mutual friend."

I snorted. "I didn't know you knew how to joke."

Mycroft blinked but otherwise didn't respond. "I would like for you to know that because of your kidnapping we were able to apprehend one of the most dangerous men in Britain." I furrowed my eyebrows.

"You mean you caught Moriarty?"

Mycroft chuckled softly. "I said one of, not the most dangerous." He sighed. "His name is Sebastion Moran and he is a contracted killer, now known to have been working closely with Moriarty. We found him wandering the upstairs of the house you were in, he was awaiting a signal from Moriarty when to kill you." He looked me straight in the eye. "We arrived precisely fifteen seconds before the text was received."

I gulped and looked away. "So obviously he wants me dead." I shivered, whether it be from the cold or fright I wasn't quite sure. "But I'm glad that it happened if we got that man off the street." Mycroft nodded and out of nowhere produced his umbrella. I vaguely wondered where he got it from.

"Sir." A woman appeared seemingly from nowhere, I blinked and looked behind her looking for a black hole or something but there was nothing there. She must be magic, I decided.

"Yes?"

"It's her." She gave me a brief look and a short smile before handing over her phone. Mycroft stood up and took it, giving me the slightest look of apology before moving over to one side.

"No we don't have the pictures," He began.

I jumped when someone placed their hand on my shoulder, my own hand immediately went to hit it off but my hand was captured and it was with a gulp that I turned around. I could have slapped Sherlock when it turned out to just be him.

"You scared me." I accused him, using my other hand to rest on my chest where my heart was beating quickly.

"I apologise." He murmured, gently pulling me up and away from Mycroft, although I noticed that his head was tilted in his direction obviously paying close attention to the phone call he was immersed in. I elbowed him in the side gently, bringing his attention back to me. He scowled at me for a second before pulling me over to a waiting John who had a smile ready for me.

I smiled back, almost jumping again when Sherlock wrapped his arm around my shoulders, obviously feeling the shiver that ripped through me, the night had fallen a few hours ago and it was getting really cold now. Sherlock took his scarf off and wrapped it around my throat gently, patting it into place.

We kept eye contact until John coughed, I smiled sheepishly at him before being pushed forward into the taxi that stopped in front of us. I sighed in relief at the heat of the cab, leaning back in my seat, snuggling up to Sherlock when he sat next to me. His body heat was also nicely received and I quickly fell into a light dose.

"The drugs appear to have passed through her system quickly." Sherlock said quietly to John, his hand absent-mindedly stroking my hair.

"Yes it appears so." John spoke slowly, his eyes following the hand stroking my hair with extreme surprise, he was so used to Sherlock not showing emotion it was hard for him to comprehend him showing affection even if it was to me. I would have laughed but I was too tired to do anything other than sit there.

It was true though, I no longer felt drugged and it was obvious that I could move now. I had in fact been able to move as soon as I was moved outside, it was almost as if the fresh air had woken me up. I was very thankful for it however because it had been the worst day I'd ever experienced and I really just wanted to break down and release all the pent up emotion but I didn't want to do that in the taxi. I would wait until I got home.

But I didn't want to go home, I realised. I wanted to feel safe. And that was with Sherlock. He obviously felt the same because we rolled up in front of 221B Baker Street.

"Lydia." He whispered, gently pushing on my shoulder to try and wake me up. Which I did, of course, I wasn't exactly asleep, more like resting my eyes. I yawned as he helped me out of the car, John paid the man and together we walked into the house. I looked at the stairs with a sense of exhaustion.

I yelped when Sherlock picked me up bridal style. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he seemingly with no effort carried me up the stairs. I was too tired to be impressed, but as I looked over his shoulder I could see that John had no problem being as surprised as I felt. Sherlock was one of those really tall guys who didn't look like they could carry a lot. This was proved wrong at this moment, because I didn't believe I was the lightest feather in the box but he had no problem opening the door and setting me down on the sofa.

"John, we need some dinner." Sherlock said, sitting down next to me and holding my wrist.

John startled, he had just been standing there and staring but he quickly snapped back to it. "Uh, yeah of course." Sherlock motioned to one of the more used menus on the mantelpiece, blocking the majority of their mail. John took it and blinked down at it.

"John." He shook his head and dialled the number, going into the kitchen to talk.

"Sherlock." I murmured, resting my head on his shoulder. "I'm not hungry."

Sherlock looked down at me, wrapping his arms around my shoulder and pulling me closer to him. "You have been drugged, Lydia. The food will help you feel better, faster."

"But I'm tired." I whispered, already feeling myself drift off. He shook me slightly, waking me up.

"You can go to sleep after you've had something to eat." I sighed but sat up a bit straighter, knowing that he would only wake me up every time I tried to sleep.

"It's like you've turned into my mother." I mumbled, rubbing my eyes to try and wake myself up a bit.

Sherlock lent down to mutter in my ear. "I'm so much worse." He proceeded to bite my ear, leaning away from me as John came back into the living room.

"Right, I'm off to pick up the food. I'll be around ten minutes. Try not to injure yourselves by the time I get back."

"No promises." Sherlock spoke, reaching over to grab the remote and put on some really back telly that he knew I liked. I smiled and snuggled into him, wrapping his coat around me tighter before realising that I was still in the nighty that had been put on me.

I shuddered. "I'm going to get changed." Sherlock nodded and moved his feet so I could pass by. I walked into his bedroom and grabbed some of his clothes, quickly slipping off the horrific nightgown and pulling on some boxers. I searched for a t-shirt before coming to the conclusion that he owned nothing casual and instead pulled on the nearest shirt which turned out to be my favourite purple one.

I felt so much better now I had some decent clothes on that actually covered me and the fact that it smelt like Sherlock simply made me feel safer and loved. I smiled as I folded his coat, frowning as I came across something in his pockets.

It was Sherlock's phone, I smiled as I unlocked it. He didn't have a password which was strange. As I held it something else strange happened. Someone sent him a text, but the text tone was the sound of a woman experiencing an orgasm.

What the fuck.

**AN: So here we go. No one got it right, but the guesses were interesting, some people who I'd never have though of. I hope no one was disappointed with this but when Lydia comes into it, Sherlock drops everything for her. Which is lovely at this point in their relationship. Anyway, tell me what you think! **


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